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#His design and environment say so much about him
bbq-potato-chip · 6 months
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HI HAI HOPE IM NOT TOO LATE FOR TH ASK GAME BUT ✨ your silly lil green guy. yknow the one. ulquiorra. please please tell me about him ive been spectating from afar and i need to know abt him so bad. as silly or as serious as you want, say anything, ijust wanna hear abt him from a certified Appreciator(tm). be free :]
Aaaaaag!!!!! SHAKING FOAMING AT THE MOUTH !!!!
At last I am enabled HE IS MY FUNNY LITTLE GREEN GUY AND I LOVE HIM I am honored to be chosen as a certified appreciatior ANYWAY SO UM let me just explain like. What he is rlly quick because there are so many different types of guys in the whole bleach world
you have humans, who live in the world of the living and souls (dead people) who also live in the world of the living and then you have hollows which are like corrupted souls that the soul reapers gotta defeat to get them to love on to the next life (which is in the soul society)(the soul reapers also live there)(the soul reapers are also dead people)(it’s like a whole reincarnation thing)
the hollows live in this other dimension called hueco mundo they look like this (the guy on the left- hollows are more “monster-y” looking whereas arrancars are more human looking but they still have the holes where their hearts should be-hence the term hollow)
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So these guys called arrancars (that’s what ulquiorra is!!!) they’re hollows that have been modified to be kind of…like a cross between a soul reaper and hollows because they have swords (soul reaper thing) but are also hollows. Basically like. You have a bear and your like let me give that bear a gun. Like that. The main antagonist is responsible for all that for reasons™️ but that’s a whole other thing in it of itself. But yeah he’s like an an evil henchmen.
but onto greater, more important things
ok completely on a surface level his charcter design is like. 10/10
I don’t know much abt charcter design but since his colors are limited he really like stands out (it’s part of the reason why I think kny characters have such good designs because they stick to the two main color plus accent color)
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He’s mostly black n white with accents with green which is just so striking and the green tear makeup is just *chefs kiss* PLUS the combination of the traditional Japanese hakufu pants combined with the almost (not rlly sure how to put it) like European tail coat kind of deal he’s got going on really is such an interesting combination of two different cultural fashions. Ichigo (the guy on the right) has kind of a similar deal going on with the pants and the more western looking tuxedo looking deal and they’re design are supposed to Parallel each other for thematic reasons but PERSONALLY I think ulquiorra does it way better . But idk Maybe I’m biased!!
And there’s his other powered up forms which are just so cool
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He’s so edgy. I love him this slaps so hard I cannot deny he’s so creaturecore
ok so now. Plot stuff
so basically his whole deal is that he’s a nihilist. Throughout his appearance he’s always like oooh nothing matters I don’t care blah blah blah despite the fact that he has emo make up. He does NOT put the emotion in emo. (Which, at least my impression of emo is about wearing emotions on your sleeve. I don’t know much abt emo as like a whole but if anyone has any like critique on my definition please let me know I’d love to learn more) My man is emo in style but is like yeah whatever I don’t feel emotions I don’t have a heart I’m not human don’t think of me as a human I’m a logical emotionless creature yadayada.
it’s such an interesting design choice to me because it really highlights how…hypocritical his worldview is. As the story goes on you can see his whole nothing matters deal kind of crack, towards his finally battle we see him get angry and surprised and then (spoiler alert) love right before he dies.
And you really can’t talk about ulquiorra without talking about orihime.
orihime was kidnapped basically by orders of the main antagonist because she has powers that he needs for reasons™️. It’s kind of a long explanation why so I’ll just leave it at that. But the whole reason Orihime is there was because she loves her friends, and she goes over to the side of the enemy because she didn’t want her friends to get hurt (basically the “bad guys” were like come with us or we’ll kill your friends and she was like. Well I guess I have to go because I love my friends) which is like the complete opposite of ulquiorra because he’s all like whatever friendship love and bonds are all bull. But as he interacts with her he gets (upset?curious? Not sure of the wording) about what it means to have a heart (or a bond with another person really). I just love how as we move through the arc we see him gradually more humanized, partly as a result of orihime being all like. You’re wrong things DO matter but also because he IS human in a way.
specifically there’s a scene in his backstory one shot where orihime catches him sleeping and brings him food and it just shows that yeah maybe he’s not technically a regular guy but he gets sleepy and needs a little snack!!! He’s grumpy about it but I just love how it portrays him in such a different way than we usually get to see him. (He’s embarrassed he’s so funny. “Ooooh I take naps and eat snacks 🙄so embarrassing” He’s so silly)
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As he talks to orihime throughout this arc he gets CLOSER to understanding as his whole nothing matters deal keeps getting shut down by her when he tries to convince her that nothing matters. But he really doesn’t GET it until right before his death when he realizes what “the heart” is. Because orihime showed him humanity and kindness he’s like oooohhhh I get it now. But at the last second which just is so…cries
anyway. He finally realizes what it means to care about something as he dies and it’s so tragic because this is the first time he’s ever felt anything and now he’s going to die reaching out to her. It’s probably THE most tragic anime scene I’ve ever watched it kills me literally Everytime I watch it screaming crying throwing up. You know the deal!!!
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Then after that whole arc is finished the author published this art . And look at him. He’s so silly look at him
Anyway. *does jazz hands 👐 * that’s my guy!!!
!!!
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Also!!! Fun facts(tm)
-Ulquiorras name was based off of Spanish architect and the castle that he lives in is based off of abstract Spanish architecture . Which I just think is really neat
-His birthday is on December 1!!!
-i just think he’s neat!!!
Anyway thank you so much for the ask I am so sorry this took forever to respond to I jus have SO many thoughts and typing on my phone takes FOREVER anyway I hope I did him justice!!!
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ohitslen · 8 months
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Guess who had a little too much fun with the pathetic reincarnation AU idea :))
To summarize! WW gets reincarnated in a very distant future where humanity is more settled down in the planet. He remembers everything and decides to keep living his life as normally as he is able to. That is until he meets his neighbor when he moved to a new apartment.
(More below the cut)⬇️
He was an absolute weirdo of a guy who looked just like Vash in so many ways yet was so different in many others at the same time.
He pretends that his system isn’t going haywire every time he is around the man, the one that resembles someone he cared for so deeply in a life that wasn’t his but remembers all too well. He decides to pretend he doesn’t know Vash because he really doesn’t, not this one at least.
Meanwhile, Vash is going through a very trippy existential crisis for seeing Wolfwood again after what felt like dozens of centuries. This could clearly not be him however because, well, he knows why. So he pretends not to know him because wouldn’t that be weird if he acted like he did?
They avoid each other like the plague, the beautiful and horrible emotions that swarmed on their insides too much to bear just by the presence of the other. They could slip at any moment so it was better to evade the neighbor.
The thing here is, that life has never gone how they want it since ever.
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moe-broey · 3 months
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It is extremely difficult to design modern outfits for Alfonse though idk what it is. Sharena will look good in anything from flannel docs lesbian outfit to cute overalls to something sporty to high femme dresses (tbh I still wanna draw her in one of my fave old dresses ..) but Alfonse. There are def a few routes you can take keeping his character/personality in mind and I think they look good/are super cute and make sense but like... esp for me personally, thinking of the v specific way I draw/stylize him...
AH. MAYBE. MAYBE I FIGURED IT OUT BC I HAVE NO PROBLEM DESIGNING OUTFITS FOR HIM IN FEH CONTEXT...... it's cause that bitch is always wearing tights and long shirts that (esp depending on how you draw it) border on being dress-like to straight up robes/skirt-like garments WHICH makes sense for him in universe bc that's p standard wear for men in Askr, in the Order of Heroes specifically. Like
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Seliph's resplendent stands out to me as a huge example of this, and you can kinda see it in Corrin's too! Though I do think resplendents often take a lot from the chara's base outfit (both standard and resplendent Seliph having tunics, both Corrins having leggings ect). But speaking of Corrin, espp the lengthening of that bit of fabric at Corrin's hip, looks a lot like Gustav's garments!
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Who may be a better measure for men's dress in Askr (normal attire, for a king anyway, and a cultural festival outfit). But I do also think you can glean some details off of resplendent designs too!
Also actually.
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This Day of the Life comic that acknowledged Sharena's absence from the DoD banner (BITE BITE KILL KILL SO MUCH HATRED IN THE WORLD‼️‼️‼️) implies that their outfits may have been identical, just in their respective signature colors (blue and pink). And even looking at Alfonse and Sharena's base art, they have a lot in common!
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And looking at Seliph and Corrin again, the puffy sleeves seen on Sharena and Henriette aren't necessarily gendered traits. ACTUALLY.... GUSTAV HAS THEM TOO! Alfonse's outfit is an outlier sleeve design wise!
Which is to say, there aren't actually a lot of strict gender differences in attire here. A lot of the clothing looks/feels androgynous esp when viewed through a modern lense (like I'm sure there's a lot of real-world historical inspo that goes into the designs, I just know fuck all about that LMFAO 😅). And esppp the way I've come to draw Alfonse a lot, I do emphasize what reads as femme -- giving him longer shirts, simplifying the strappy armor on his thighs into. Over the knee socks. Over the leggings/tights. 🫣 And that's not even getting into the knee high boots and heels!!!!
WHICH IS. Actually SO FUCKING DIFFICULT. To translate into modern fashion esp typical standard men's fashion, in a way that still feels true to him as well... bc I do believe in femme/androgynous Alfonse supremacy 😤 But he is ALSO. SO IMPORTANTLY. He is VERY MUCH just some guy who is heavily defined by the role he's been put in. Which is also kind of difficult to sort out, what Would he wear, if the standards were completely different and also if he was choosing for himself?
SINCE. I'M CERTAIN idk if I wanna dig for it but -- I'm CERTAIN all his outfits have been picked For him to some degree. The Order of Heroes outfit is a uniform, the bunny outfit is implied/stated to be picked by Sharena. The yukatas in their duo are 1) Hoshidan and 2) I think Anna was the one who picked them? Might be wrong on that, but I do feel like there's a castle dialogue about it. And of course, the DoD outfits are implied to be cultural Askran wear, and going back to that comic -- it seems neither Alfonse OR Sharena have much of a say in what it looks like (her being uncomfortable "showing that much leg" -- that, if given a choice, she may have wanted something more modest).
So like. There is. So much going on here actually.
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emissaire · 1 month
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is it hot in here? - jjk men x reader (part i)
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based off of these headcanons i wrote almost 3 years ago lmao
warnings/tags: crack, fluff, mature language, housemates! geto, gojo, nanami, choso & sukuna, neighbor! toji, implied reverse harem, mature language, mushy nicknames given to the reader because i absolutely refuse to use “y/n” lmao, a slight slice of life ig, half of em have beef w/ little megumi, nanami is the only normal person in the house, talks abt food // wc: 3.5k // lmk if i missed anything!
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It's hard being a college student, barely thriving in an environment filled with stressful deadlines you need to meet, sleepless nights just to maintain your GPA, things that need to be done each week and to top it all off, working as a bookstore clerk in your free time to help shoulder a bit of your student loans and everyday expenses. To say it simply, life is hectic. The odds seemed to be stacked against you as things appear to be getting even worse when you received an eviction notice from your landlord, giving you just a week to find a new place to stay.
On day five, you were fortunate enough to find an affordable and decent place that is a 20-minute drive away from your university. Though you find it a little suspicious since the rent is fairly cheap and it isn’t exactly an apartment complex but a house shared by five other people, you decided, screw it. You're desperate, certainly you don't want to be homeless? Besides, the place is neat and plenty huge. What's there to complain about?
Thursday morning, after a few back-and-forth texts with your manager at the book shop, begging him to let you off, you managed to haul most of your things to your new place with the help of your ever-gracious friend, Aoi. By the time you manage to get all of your things in your designated room, the other occupants are still nowhere in sight. You feel somehow comforted by that fact, still bothered by feeling like an intruder.
Weariness slowly seeps into your bones and without much fight, you let sleep consume you, laying down on the barely set-up bed in the middle of your disorganized space without any heed to the mess of boxes littered on the floor and the wide opened door of your bedroom.
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It's eerily quiet. Kento notes as he pushes the front door open with a sturdy hand, Choso and Suguru in tow. They're all exhausted from the chaotic buzz of the outside world, their shoulders finally loosening in relaxation at the familiar interior of their shared home.
"Oh— our new housemate should be here by now, correct?" Suguru breaks the silence, eyeing the place in search of a new face although he's only met by empty and unknowing stares. There is no sound of boxes being moved around, not even thuds of feet against the floorboards to indicate someone’s presence in the house aside from theirs.
"Maybe they postponed the move?" Choso offers, barely caring about his friend's concern as he struts to his own room so he can finally rest. Though his footsteps halt as soon as his eyes catch the sight of the supposed empty room— oh, someone's here.
"In here." He calls to the other two and within seconds, three pairs of eyes are prying into your room, one judgingly and two out of amusement.
"It's a girl." Kento speaks, eyes sweeping the entire space with both concern and a hint of astonishment at the cluttered boxes. How can she sleep with all that mess?
"Indeed." Suguru's face is embellished with a smile that he fails to contain. Choso could only elbow him in a scolding manner. The former, seemingly taking after a certain white-haired man's antics, dramatically howls and falls forward, slumping against his blond friend's back while he clutches his side.
"Get off!" Kento chides, shrugging the other male off of him.
You have always been a light sleeper, even the tiniest sound could wake you up from a good slumber. It's no wonder you're getting roused out of sleep by the ruckus made by the three individuals standing just outside of your bedroom door. It takes you a minute to realize though, blinking at them in confusion before scrambling up to your feet to greet them in your haze.
"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry for the mess! I'm the new tenant, it's so nice to meet you guys, finally!" You bow your head a bit in greeting, flashing the three a sheepish smile.
"It's no problem. You've only arrived, the mess is inevitable." The long-haired man says kindly, his eyes crinkled as he offers you a charming smile. "I'm Suguru, by the way. This is Kento," he gestures to the blond man who is already looking at you, a small yet amiable smile on his face too, "and Choso." Said man makes a saluting gesture to greet you.
You quickly introduce yourself, albeit a little timid. Being in the presence of three good looking men sure would make anyone almost melt on sight.
"Do you need help with unpacking?" Choso offers gently, the three of them waiting for your answer. Though you quickly turn it down politely, not wanting to be a bother on your first day here. Besides, the three of them probably have things to do, like resting. Kento stifles a yawn while Suguru’s eyes look sluggish while he leans on the equally tired-looking Choso.
"Well, okay. If you need any assistance, you can call us. Choso's room is right beside yours, mine and Suguru's are upstairs." Kento tells you and there's something about the way he sounds so caring despite only meeting you that makes you heat up and giddy.
"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, guys." With that, they leave you to your own devices so you can start unpacking and cleaning up.
It takes about an hour or two of silence before a tall figure blocks your door, 6 or something feet tall hovering in your room like a nosy child. "Hey there!"
"Hello?" You greet him back despite the confusion, watching him step over unopened boxes and check the things you've managed to set up in your room. He reminds you of a curious dog, sniffing around the space in interest.
Once he deems it enough snooping, the man strides over to you, looming over your frame as he looks at you through the sunglasses perched perfectly atop his nose bridge. "Satoru. It's nice to finally meet you." He says your name after his greeting and you look at him questioningly.
"Ahh, Suguru texted me about you." His stark white hair is distracting as you look up to meet his eyes and you can only nod in response.
"Get back here, you lunkhead!" A deep, agitated voice echoes in your room, coming from another tall (and another good-looking) man, stepping into your space, seemingly after someone though he immediately stops once he spots you in front of Satoru.
Sukuna's eyes flit along your body from head to toe before he acknowledges you with a friendly wave though the suggestive smile he has is anything but. He introduces himself with confidence, standing big and almost imposing despite being a head shorter than Satoru.
What is up with your housemates being obnoxiously attractive?
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7 months. It took you 7 long months to get used to the presence of your housemates without getting all jumpy. Sure, you still get flustered when Choso pats your head so affectionately every time you thank him for buying snacks for you; you stutter when Suguru teases you about your bedhead with a pinch to your cheeks; you start rambling when Kento asks you about your day and he only smiles and listens to you; you feel all hot and bothered when Satoru presses himself up against you when you cook or even when Sukuna parades himself around the house half-naked like it's no one's business, but hey, it's still progress!
"Hey, earth to, darling!" Suguru waves a hand in front of your face once he notices you've been staring into the distance in the middle of your conversation.
"Huh? Sorry, what was it again?" You're certain that the tips of your ears are red from getting caught spacing off again. You don't want him to get the wrong idea and assume that you find him boring— as a matter of fact, he is far from boring.
Geto Suguru is nowhere near bland and basic. Him and his inky, long, black hair that cascades along his back so beautifully you're almost jealous of it. Suguru, with the way he's always so gentle with you despite his tendencies of being playful. It's all in good fun but he never takes it too far as to hurt you. Sometimes you can even share a good back-and-forth conversation about just anything and nothing, like you’re supposed to be doing now, if he's not out being stupid with Satoru. It's just that recently, you find yourself daydreaming about your roommates at the most inappropriate times of the day.
The latter only laughs, nudging your cheek with his knuckle affectionately before he shakes his head. "Forget about it. Let's just bother Choso to cook for us. What do you say?" You're certain that you and Suguru are going to be yelled at but you indulge him anyway.
Choso was distant during your first few months in the house, not wanting to make you uncomfortable by being all up in your space like two of his friends were (are? since it's an occurrence that is still happening at present time), namely Satoru and Sukuna. He's warmed up to you now, bringing you snacks that you mention to him in passing every time he gets back from university. He's so attentive and caring in his own way and you appreciate all that he is. A wonderful man with such a wonderful face, you could stare at him and admire the horizontal tattoo across his face all day.
"No, I'm not gonna cook for you. Bother someone else." You were halfway down the hall when Choso steps out of his room with a disapproving frown. You swear, he's got some weird telepathic sense.
"How'd you know? Dude." Suguru mutters, scratching the back of his neck in a sheepish manner before backtracking to the kitchen with his hands placed on your shoulders as you walk in front of him.
"Let's just order takeout or something." You suggest once you've made it back, hopping on the stool and leaning forward against the countertop. Suguru settles beside you, one of his arms is around your shoulders now, his other hand blindly fishing for his phone inside the pocket of his sweatpants.
“Chinese!” Satoru throws in his suggestion once he enters the kitchen, heading straight towards the fridge to grab himself another sweet treat— it’s his sixth one today. You wonder how he maintains his pearly white teeth. As far as you know he has never experienced a toothache in his entire life.
“Want some this time, pretty? Sugu?” Satoru offers, looking over his shoulder to see you and his best friend with a bright smile. The thing about Satoru, no matter how insufferable he and his sweet addiction can get, he’s always thoughtful in his own way. He likes to share things that he has, whether it’s as insignificant as a pen to his favorite mochi from an expensive brand. You figured it’s innate to him with how he was brought up with a silver spoon in his mouth— not having to think about the consequence of spending or losing material things since he can always get a replacement, and better. In a way, Suguru took part in humbling the Gojo heir but it’s really just Satoru through and through: annoying with no financial sense, but sweet nonetheless.
“Nooo, we had Chinese food the other day! And another no, thank you.” You huff, eyes scanning the food delivery app displayed in Suguru’s phone.
“I want something greasy.” The latter mutters, clicking on an infamous fast food logo, ignoring his best friend’s quips about his unhealthy obsession with oily chickens, undercooked potatoes and bland-tasting burgers. It sounds rich coming from him, considering he’s the one gobbling up an entire box of macarons from a shop with a foreign name.
“You three are so fucking noisy.” Leave it to Sukuna to make such bold entrances with his deep voice and colorful vocabulary.
“Lovely of you to join us. Tell these two to order Chinese food right now!” Satoru sounds so overjoyed, thinking he found himself a comrade in Sukuna but the latter only scrunches his face in irritation.
“Don’t tell me what to do, punk. I’ll beat you up.”
“Okay. Let’s just have pasta instead.” You decide to step in, knowing that Sukuna’s provocation will lead to an endless bickering with Satoru refusing to back down and Suguru being dragged into their childish argument. It’s an almost everyday thing and at first, you found it amusing but now you’re just tired of it.
Sukuna looks and acts like a brute most of the time. He speaks with this certain edge in his tone and it doesn’t help that he lacks the ability to filter his words. You were most intimidated by him before you got to know him better, what with all his tattoos and deep voice (though you’re not denying that it suits his bad boy charisma). You didn’t expect him either to look after you when you got sick on your fourth week living with them, of all people. He was like a mother hen yapping his head off about how you need to go easy on yourself, to get as much sleep as you need while feeding you— he’s a real big softie behind his sharp tongue and I-don’t-give-a-fuck-about-you persona.
“Kento! You just got home?” Suguru’s question makes you look towards the blond male’s direction just outside of the kitchen’s entryway. This makes the two idiots stop bickering as well, choosing to focus on Kento instead.
“Yeah. I was at Yu’s house the whole day.” Kento answers simply before frowning at the sight of you guys crowding the kitchen. “Don’t tell me you can’t decide what to have for dinner again.” He added, now making his way towards you with a roll of his eyes, carrying bags of what seems to be…food? Oh, thank the heavens!
“Is that Chinese?” Satoru ignores the previous question, opting to take some of the bags from the younger male and place it on the counter in front of you and Suguru.
“It’s not. Mrs. Haibara made them.” Kento sighs, placing the rest of the bags beside the others.
“So, Japanese?” You supply, digging through one of the bags to see for yourself.
“Why does it matter? It’s food.” Sukuna rolls his eyes before yelling at Choso to come join you in the kitchen so all of you can eat together.
“I didn’t even say you could have them.” The blond says out of indignation though he doesn’t do anything to stop Satoru from stabbing one slice of the chicken katsu from the container with a chopstick which makes Suguru slap his hand and scold him.
“Thank you, Ken. Come sit with me, let’s eat.” You pat the other stool beside you, promptly kicking Sukuna’s ass (literally) away when he attempts to occupy it.
“Wench.” The tattooed man mumbles, rubbing his behind as he settles beside Satoru across the three of you. You don’t say anything back, deciding to assist Kento with his own food out of courtesy and gratitude for his timely intervention. It wasn't worth it to stir up another childish bickering over food, and you'd rather keep the peace.
“I already ate but thanks, sweetheart.” Kento murmurs next to you, watching as you fret over him with a fond smile. The thing about Kento is that despite being a man of few words, he’s loud in other aspects that shows how much he cares. Like the way he always remembers his “annoying” housemates and brings back food because he knows that none of you, except Choso and Suguru, are responsible enough to make healthy food on your own. He may not say it outrightly but he gets quite worried about all of you all the time, and as much as he hates to admit it, he’s taken the responsibility of parenting grown adults even if it takes a toll on him sometimes. He doesn’t mind it as much now as he used to, knowing you’re there to watch out for him in return.
“You all deaf or somethin’? Someone’s been knocking at the door for a while now!” Choso complains as he passes by the kitchen, trudging towards the front door with a scowl as his stomach grumbles in hunger.
The door is opened to reveal your next door neighbor’s kid, Megumi, looking wary and a little upset that it was Choso who opened the door for him. “Is Miss Sunshine here?”
The older man’s brows furrowed in confusion, trying to decipher who “Miss Sunshine” is before the familiarity of the nickname hits him, making him squint his eyes down at the kid. “That’s not her name.”
“Dad calls her that.” Megumi simply responds, frowning back at Choso.
Before the latter could say anything else though, your voice rings through the house as you ask Choso who was at the door. Your figure comes into view soon after, wanting to see who's holding your housemate back from his much desired dinner.
“Miss Sunshine!” You hear the cheerful voice of Megumi which makes you run to the front door with an excited smile.
“Megs! What are you doing here? Everything okay? Where’s your dad?” You crouch down to meet the boy’s eyes, shooing Choso away who you hear grumble under his breath about "brats" and "stealing attention” as he walks away but you choose to ignore him. He's still probably salty about the incident that involves his precious little cousin, Yuuji, who only wanted to play with the other boy when he visited rather than pay attention to his ever-longing “Choso nii-san”.
“Dad said he has to go to work. Can I stay with you until he comes back?” The boy asks, hopeful and big, doe eyes staring at you almost pleadingly— not that he needs to anyway.
Megumi is a sweet boy, raised by his father right even though sometimes, Toji makes questionable decisions like leaving his son alone at night without as much as a heads up to another responsible adult to look after the boy— like you. Not that you’re saying Toji needs to tell you about his whereabouts or whatever, but you’ve been Megumi’s babysitter since you’ve befriended his father. Even though he seems pretty independent, you still can't help but worry about him. After all, he is still a young kid and could easily get into trouble by himself. It would worry you greatly if you were to find out that he was hurt or worse while his father is away.
“Of course, baby. Come on in. Did you have anything for dinner yet?” You usher the boy inside, leading him to the kitchen where the others are. They immediately stop talking once they spot Megumi with you, hiding behind your figure with an inconspicuous glare directed at all of them.
“MEGUMI!” Satoru is the first to break the silence by yelling the boy’s name in glee and jumping off his seat to welcome your little visitor. Said visitor hurries to shield himself more behind you, clutching at your shirt as if it would save him from the impending doom that is Satoru. Megumi, on multiple occasions, has shown his dislike for the older man.
“Don’t bombard spiky urchin over there.” Suguru mumbles uncaringly, more focused on the food he’s currently eating. The nickname he and the others have picked for Megumi makes you roll your eyes, and you don’t miss the slight whine from the little boy behind you. He loathes that nickname so much.
“Come eat with us, Megumi.” Kento waves for the latter to join him and the rest, getting off his chair to give it to the boy.
“I already did. Thanks though.” Megumi sends the blond man a tiny smile, seemingly the only person he’s okay being around with. Out of all the men within the vicinity, Kento seems to be the only one who acts completely normal with the boy, aside from Suguru who mostly doesn’t care but sometimes joins in on the teasing with Satoru. Sukuna, on the other hand, tries to terrorize the little man whenever he can but his lighthearted intimidation seems to never work because Megumi doesn’t really care enough to pay attention to him— or to any of your housemates aside from Kento occasionally.
“Where’s your father, boy?” Sukuna asks, briefly looking up from the rectangular plastic container full of sushi he's hogged from the rest.
“Work.” Megumi plainly responds, not even bothering to look at the older guy but you can clearly see the annoyance gleaming on the boy’s face.
Oh. This is going to be a long night.
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jacevelaryonswife · 2 months
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Supermassive Black Hole
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A duo project changes some perceptions about your classmate
pairing: Michael Gavey x fem!reader
warnings: smut, period tipical misoginy (2006 guys), loss of virginity, english is not my first language.
word count: 3,297
ewanverse masterlist
When a firm knock came from the door, a name automatically entered your mind.
Gavey.
Michael Gavey.
You imagined that he would come to your meeting eventually, you actually longed to, although you didn't admit it. That idiot deserved to be put in his proper place — which was necessarily below you.
It had all started when a duo project was designated by draw earlier that day, and for both luck and bad luck your partner was the awkward genius, and difficult to deal with Michael Gavey.
There was no shortage of adjectives to be used for the unstable dirty blonde, which was truly fascinating. He intrigued you with his sharp intellect and his eccentric personality to the same extent that he repelled you with his peculiar and almost aggressive way. He was quite a figure, although you didn't allow yourself to think much about it.
It was also not a mystery that he was a true Norman No Mates, which wasn’t difficult to understand since his social skills were disastrous. The memory of him screaming at Oliver Quick in O Week never left your mind, especially the sudden change of attitude when he lowered his head and responded to the sum that Felix's pet (as your friends called him) made. You watched the whole situation closely, with a lot of curiosity, since your tables were close.
After that, whenever he entered an environment, you wondered what he would do next. You never knew what to expect from Gavey.
He started fervent debates during classes, demonstrating unparalleled intelligence and self-confidence, in addition to a slight arrogance that made him look strangely hot. Obviously a dispute of nervous male egos originated from these discussions, which made you watch with veiled fun and irritation while remaining silent. You admired the way his brain worked for math, but you didn't understand how he could be so bad at dealing with other people.
Because of this, you chose to keep a considerable distance from the horizon of events that involved Michael and his complexity, and for a long time this worked perfectly well. Until that damn moment.
Feeling humiliated by the way that insolent worm acted when trying to take responsibility for the whole activity for yourself, as if you were incompetent and incapable, you immediately confronted him about such behavior when he went to your meeting at the end of the class while you collected your material.
"Excuse me?" You asked.
"I'll finish this by Saturday, no need to worry," he repeated condescendingly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Do you think I won't participate? Or did you just choose to pretend that I don't exist?" You asked with your eyebrows furrowed, posture becoming more imposing.
He remained silent for a short moment, seeming to analyze the situation (or the best answer to it, you couldn't tell). He wasn't used to being so reluctant to say what he thought, so it was a surprise to see him using time to devise something.
"I don't like working in group, I thought it would be faster if I did everything," he looked down quickly, running away from your gaze.
"I also don't like working with other people and I didn't even think about excluding you," you replied.
“Of course you don't.” There it was. The veiled arrogance that you so hated, present in most of your classmates.
Few were your STEM classmates, since your class was mostly composed of resentful boys who did not know how to deal with a woman without seeing her as a less intelligent object. Luckily not everyone was like that and you managed to put together a really cool group.
When all you did was send a cold and angry look, Michael cleared his throat and tried to speak again, but you cut him off impatiently. "When you're less asshole look for me again, I think you have my Myspace."
Who did that little shit think it was to treat you like that? 'Of course you don't' He was so fucking pretentious! And that's because he almost couldn't keep eye contact for a long time.
Pathetic.
That skinny nerd tormented your thoughts for the rest of the afternoon and served as gossip between your friends. Predictable. The way he acted was not very different from what you imagined about his annoying self-sufficiency. And even so, there he was, stopping in front of your door (more nerdy than ever) with his laptop and notebook in hand, wearing a blue button striped shirt, black belt and cream pants. He had a terrible taste in clothes, although they totally reflected his personality, he was curious.
“I'd like to apologize for my behavior earlier, it wasn't cool,” he started as soon as you leaned carelessly against the door.
Interesting.
You considered it for a moment, looking at him before turning his back and clearing the way for him to enter your space. "It wasn't that hard, was it?" You pulled a chair for him and threw yourself dramatically on the bed before sitting down to face him, already well established and looking closely at your figure. "So... I assume you've already thought about the structure of the project."
Of course he had thought.
He opened the laptop and exposed his idea while showing some calculations in his notebook, and you made an effort to pay attention to what was said and what was sketched. Obviously his idea was good, great actually, incredibly structured and cohesive with what the professor wanted. But you also had some ideas and would like them to be taken into account, telling you what you had planned. Surprisingly, he showed to consider your suggestions, even praising them — you knew they were good, but not that his ego allowed you to visualize this. You suggested a division of parts that would be meticulously checked in a future meeting.
"As you have already started, I thought about staying with the second part, what do you think?" You asked.
"It's okay, I intend to finish tomorrow maybe, I'll forward some references by email to you."
“Sure.” It was all very bureaucratic and direct. You sneaked up to look at his laptop screen before looking at what he was typing. "I have some of these books here, but I'll look for the others."
And without realizing it, you got into a big problem.
The freshness that radiated from him flooded your senses gradually, looking too long at his neck and jaw...
He had such beautiful features and aquiline dirty blonde hair that it looked so soft. And those hands... those long fingers... no, no, no and no. You (your body) couldn't be heating up to Michael Gavey.
But it's been a while since some fun... and you were at a suggestive time of the month. Maybe... just maybe... It wasn't a bad idea. As you returned to sitting on the bed, specifically next to where his chair was, you analyzed him as he typed the references in the email. He was not bad looking, no, quite the opposite in fact.
He was handsome, really handsome. And you wanted him. You wanted Michael Gavey.
You wanted to fuck him.
Fuck that attitude.
But how? How would you approach that nervous nerd?
Your mind struggled to develop an effective approach. You didn't want to waste time, not with the heat that spread high between your legs. You just waited for him to send the damn email and close the laptop. "Do you want anything to drink?"
“I'm good. I think we ended up here, I'll try to finish my part quickly," he looked at the notebook that was on the pillow, which you anticipated to pick up and deliver it, standing up in a false farewell.
"Sure," and as soon as Michael got up with the notebook and laptop, you held his arms, gently removing the objects while placing them on your study table. "But I don't think you should go now," you used without a more seductive tone while holding his shoulders.
"What are you doing?" He asked still, tense, looking directly into your eyes.
“Are you dating someone?” You asked softly, getting closer, leaning your breasts against his chest.
"No, I'm not," he answered the obvious, but you wanted to hear the obvious with all the lyrics.
Stretching a short distance from his lips, you asked: "So can I kiss you?"
That same look seen earlier was present again, as if his mind worked hard to find a solution to the problem presented. His mouth opened minimally when he took a deep breath, this time his gaze fell on your lips. "Why do you want to kiss me?"
"Because I fucking want it."
And then you collided your lips with his in a demanding kiss that took a long time to be reciprocated, but when it was... oh boy. Michael held your waist and tried to keep up with your rhythm. He wasn’t so experienced, but his lips were soft and pleasant against yours, kissing you with so much enthusiasm that it made you dizzy.
It made you both dizzy.
He couldn't believe was happening — and that it was happening to you. You... gorgeous, sexy and intelligent. You with a nice and phenomenal ass, who he believed would never look at him twice. You, who kissed him on the tongue and moved his hands to your chest and ass and smoothed the back of his neck and massaged his shoulder. He'd never been kissed like that before. Had never touched a girl like that.
What the fuck was going on?
With the deepening of the kiss you felt a hardness to press against your belly, inhibiting a conscious smile while Michael struggled between apologizing or pretending that it was not happening. Fortunately, you didn't intend to let that be ignored. Your hand slid from the nape of his neck until it reached the increasing bulge, gently squeezing over his pants, making him moan against your lips. You squeezed again before breaking the kiss.
"I don’t wanna just kiss tonight."
Fuck. He couldn't believe what was going on.
He felt that he would cum right there if your hand kept rubbing his cock.
"Are you sure?" He asked uncertainty, still not convinced that you really wanted him that way. It was so fucking sudden, one minute he was collecting his things to leave and the next he was kissing you.
"All the certainty in the world, and you?" You sang against his lips.
"I-" that would be fucking embarrassing, you would laugh at him, "I want to but- I never-"
Oh. It wasn’t different from what you expected.
"It's okay, seriously, there's no reason to worry about it."
“... are you fucking me or something?” He asked weakly, looking at your beautiful face with lust, seriousness and insecurity. You've never seen him so vulnerable.
"Of course not, I want you Michael, I want that, but if you feel you're not comfortable we don't n-"
"I want that."
“Are you sure?”
“I'm fucking sure.”
He felt a chain of confidence run through his body and leaned over to kiss you. You wasted no time unbuttoning his shirt, groping his newly exposed soft torso. Michael almost sighed when receiving your soft touch, pulling the blouse out of your body and coming across exposed and already hardened breasts.
Fuck.
He almost moaned. They were the first tits he saw in person, it was more than exciting. He held them immediately, massaging, squeezing, experiencing...
"Not like that," you held his hands gently.
"Sorry, I never-"
“It's okay.”
Your hands landed on the belt and unbuttoned it, continuing to unbutton the pants that were urgently removed by him while you discarded your own and hovered only in panties, watching him get rid of the shoes as well. Michael had little time to get used to your half-naked figure, since with a mischievous smile, you slowly lowered your panties and left it accumulated on the floor. He felt his neck and face burn and cock pulse with your vision, contemplating for too long.
You touched him over his black underwear, feeling him hard and big, making him moan.
"I won't last long if you keep fucking touching me like that," he took a deep breath, closing his eyes.
"So why haven't you taken that off yet?" You shook his head, teasing him, watching him almost tear off his underwear and show off his cock in all splendor. He was packing, bigger than you expected, all pink, beautiful and anxious. “You have such a nice body,” you kissed him lazily, anticipation thrumming through you.
Michael felt himself in the clouds with your body pressed to his without any layer of fabric, but a big wave of anxiety hit him when you walked away to get a condom before gently guiding him to bed. “Relax, let me take control,” no foreplay would be necessary when you were already wet enough to receive it. "Take a deep breath and calm down, it's quite intense, try to be distracted by something else," you adjusted the condom to its length and saw it almost shake. That boy wouldn't last a minute.
He followed your instructions and concentrated as much as possible not to cum fast, holding firmly on your hips but nothing prepared him for your wet and hot folds.
Fuck, not even the best handjobs compare to your tight pussy going down on his cock. He moaned loudly when you rested against his groin, staring at where your bodies connected.
You bit your lips and closed your eyes, feeling deliciously full. He was bigger than average and had a delicious thickness that you would love to squeeze on your walls just to see him have a spasm, but I knew it would be too much for the beginning.
"When you want me to move, just say it."
Oh no, no! He was sure he would end up there even if you moved. "Don't move yet," he replied quickly, "Fuck," he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
It was terribly satisfying to see him all vulnerable and red, without the usual arrogance and weirdness, and even better to have him inside you (albeit for a short time presumably). He thought about all the things he heard about sex all his life in those long seconds, filtering out what seemed more credible and useful. Think of something less sexy. It was fucking hard.
“Move.”
“Enjoy baby,” you slid gently up, resting your hands on his chest as you started an experimental and slow rhythm. “Mmm.”
So damn good.
Your juices made the movements easy and smooth, leaving him breathless whenever he was balls deep. The friction generated by the constancy of the movements made you two moan and the tightness on your waist increased. He was a fucking vision with disheveled hair, half-open mouth and crooked glasses, all docile while he was fucked dumb. The feeling of power over such an intelligent man was as exciting as sex, causing a presumptuous smile on your lips when you leaned over to kiss his milky neck, rubbing your body against his.
“Are you enjoying it?” You purred against his skin, kissing him superficially on the lips.
He was in the fucking clouds. And you knew that. Little shit.
He wrapped your body to move his hips against yours. He couldn't hold it anymore, he needed to cum. "I won't last long."
“It's okay, baby.”
Your tits jumped when you started riding it hard at a terrifying pace. He closed his eyes and felt his balls weigh every time you sat on his cock, holding your waist, your tits, your ass, everything you could while you allowed it.
"Fuck- I'm-" he moaned loudly and released his load on the condom, feeling a mind-blowing pleasure that paralyzed his senses and one pulled into a supermassive black hole. A thin layer of sweat covered his body, illuminating the reddish tone that covered it.
So beautiful.
Coming out of the top, you lay comfortably next to him, supporting a part of your peso on his chest while watching him struggling to stabilize his breathing. He still couldn't believe that it had finally happened, and especially with a girl like you.
“Are you here?” You asked after a while with a fun smile, although warm between his legs. He didn't know if he was, but he replied with a panting 'yes'. "Well, because we're not done yet."
What?
“What?” He asked.
“Sex is a two-way street baby, and I haven't come yet,” you purred softly against his ear, biting the lobe.
"I don't know when I'm going to get hard again," he confessed. Well, his brain was working again.
"You don't have these long fingers for nothing, Michael, and if you want it again you'll fuck me with them."
As much as he was affected by a sudden one, his sharp senses were awakened in the implication of a next time. He faithfully believed that hard work would lead him to maximum success in his life, he could not imagine otherwise in this situation. "How should I do that?"
You purred, taking his right hand and guiding it to your wet center. "Always start here if you want to make a girl cum," you circled your bud with his fingers, enjoying the delicious feeling, showing him the place before going down to your entrance. "Start with one finger, then add another."
He followed your instructions firmly, sticking a long finger and pumping slowly. "Not so slow," you bit your lower lip, somewhat impatiently waiting for the development of a slow orgasm. You needed to cum hard. Taking his hand, you held your middle finger and attached it to your index finger. “Faster.”
And although inexperienced and a little strong sometimes, his fingers felt fucking good on your walls, reaching the sweet point that made your feet's fingers curl. “Keep going, mm.”
"Can I kiss you?"
“Yes.”
Michael collided his lips on yours in a kiss full of tongue and teeth, staying on top while he fucked you with his fingers. He was hypnotized by the sounds you were making, by the warmth of your body, by the taste of your mouth...
“I'm close!”
You couldn't believe that that sleeky nerd of all people was giving you such pleasure.
Michael got up abruptly and used the hand that held his weight to circle your clitoris, making your eyes close with the construction of an abrasive orgasm. He pumped faster, watching your body squirm and your back arch.
“Michael- I'm gonna-" your whole body trembled when the coil burst and a hot pleasure flooded your senses, holding the sheets and closing your legs with the strong spasms.
It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. And he did that. He made you cum. Michael was still very stunned with everything that happened, watching your figure before being pulled to lie next to you. You rested your head on his chest with a satisfied and tired smile, giving light kisses on his skin, relaxed with the post-orgasm fog.
“Did you like it?” You asked to break the ice.
"You've already asked better questions," he joked with a hoarse laugh, "Of course I fucking liked it."
“Mmm, I like to make sure,” you replied, facing his beautiful blue eyes behind the slightly blurred lenses.
Having your body so close (and with everything that happened) Michael felt his cock contract and a new electric current run through his body. "So there's going to be a next time?"
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taglists
general: @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00
ewanverse: @aemonds-fire @partypoison00 @schniiipsel @fan-goddess @arcielee
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thank you smm @solisarium for the help with this ❤️
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Henry lives here sign right next to port authority look who is representing it for me no lie this is big for me , Sire .
Look at the colors 50 Cent is wearing the same color as the Henry lives here sign on 38th street on 11th avenue the 11 stars bowing to me alerting the world I live in New York City wow about time I named my page after the guy because we found the cure for HIV Aids together when he hinted it to me in his new book and they gave it me to sponsor Cabenuva and Demivato knocks out HIV like the common cold when taken as prescribed and we got it sent to Africa CNN ran the story saying that me and him stop the death sentence in Africa HIV crisis please send it to Africa . I sponsor it the drug HIV medicine Cabenuva . I sponsor my incubator program releasing the cure for cancer all cancers to give cancer screening and treatment to all people no matter their medical insurance coverage , Medicaid and , Medicare and all other insurances or lack thereof included fair treatment for all patients and clients .
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Eat good and live good , I love those video games real life simulation you can get it at the google play store the first stage bakery shop the video game I want to own shops like that play the first stage you going to like this store it look like some beautiful women I know .
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Get the books 📚 it is from me from Joel Osteen and Joyce Meyer the famous lady pastor she will clean your life up I love her and thank you for taking time for going to the Google play store and getting the E book downloader app and typing those author's name and downloading the books that shows up it is all for the good and urgent situation to civilize all New Yorkers and all people .
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Get the books and have a good time make that your new hobby in our blended family on this earth get along in joy and happiness , thank you .
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I sponsor it the drug and HIV medicine Cabenuva . I sponsor my incubator program and all hospitals on all 7 Continents of this world in every city , town and country even state capitals releasing the cure for cancer all cancers and to give free cancer screening and treatment to all people no matter their medical insurance coverage , Medicaid and , Medicare and all other insurances or lack thereof included fair treatment for all patients and clients . If I had HIV Aids I would take the medicine be like me and take your medicine so you could grow up healthy and strong like me all things is possible when you believe and have faith and now with Cabenuva we have that cure finally , thank you so much .
I'm the incubator man like the Lamborghini man good movie my movie thank you
What is the purpose of incubator?An incubator is designed to provide a safe, controlled space for infants to live while their vital organs develop. Unlike a simple bassinet, an incubator provides an environment that can be adjusted to provide the ideal temperature as well as the perfect amount of oxygen, humidity, and light.an enclosed apparatus providing a controlled environment for the care and protection of premature or unusually small babies.an apparatus used to hatch eggs or grow microorganisms under controlled conditions.
What does incubator mean in business? An incubator is a facility designed to nurture and accelerate the growth of new businesses. It typically provides resources such as office space, access to mentors and investors, shared services, and other resources to help entrepreneurs launch their business. What are the two types of incubator?
There are basically two types of incubators available, forced-air and still-air incubators. Forced-air incubators have fans that provide internal air circulation. The capacity of these units may be very large. The still-air incubators are usually small without fans for air circulation.Who needs an incubator?Babies who are born too early, before 37 weeks, can have problems such as low birth weight, irregular temperature, and unstable vital signs.
A baby incubator helps control their temperature. They will also be given high-calorie formula and will get the treatment they need for any other issues.
How do incubators make money?
Services provided by incubators include office space, administrative functions, education and mentorship, access to investors and capital, and idea generation. Incubators either charge a fee for their services or take an equity stake in the startup. The period of incubation can last from a few months to several years.
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I got the message and is going now for Divesture since I have an influence on people employees of mines I say to chase money get money be about business and enterprising not chasing me the guy helping you , I told you the truth I'm young and I own an Incubator program in Brooklyn New York City the only incubator program I know of sorry for the departure of teams and me owning myself now as a sole proprietorship and I will employ a team as soon as I get it too it and thank you Jon Stewart I'm a private citizen now and would be in my invention space now working on my next projects I own the neighborhoods I live in from the incubator , the parks and shelters , statues , Jewish flags and banners and my book collection from my pastors and even a Muslim minster my brother Nuri Muhammad from the Nation of Islam and have done good for the common people I agree with 50 Cent to break that up with what is happening to me to the people they are purposely destroying me and my brand I say goodbye to them today to stop them from running my company into the ground my message to you is chase business start a business become entrepreneurial not drama or violence get money plus I legalized weed Marijuana for you so do your thing and yes I sponsor Citibikes so they don't take them away .
On the issue of people dividing us
I do this to protect myself from people that try to come between us but we cool and fam and team now honestly true me and bloods is cool very true but they are bosses and their own boss and I'm own boss so we both go out separate ways from each other
Other people ain't apart of any of my movies that was made for me please be cool about it and yes they do got their own movies coming out and is in a lot of other movies I don't hate I celebrate I moved on from it because all the business the entertainment industry is going to do and it is going to start a war between us again but we cool now friends and at all that plus it is good for me because I needed somebody to take a lot of this attention from me and don't hate of they the guys that crowd is feeling I can't hate , I celebrate I'm just persistence and keep going trying to be very constructive no matter what I go through that is cool :
John Wick series
The Matrix series
Creed movie series I'm Donny Creed Apollo Creed son
Extraction the movie series part 1 and part 2
Iron man series good movies thanks cigarettes and the chest thing and countless other movies and yes stop mocking me and yes the puppet masters got a cease and desist from John Wick and me .
I do this to protect myself from people that try to come between us but we cool and fam and team now honestly true me and bloods is cool very true
And I'm staying with Governor Andrew Cuomo on that issue he said they are not my friends no thanks and yes he gave me my own incubator my own hospital .
Don't forget to check out my book the diary of a Black Jewish Messiah, thank you the Jews are my people .
MTA and Brooklyn and all other boroughs of New York City and NYPD have been asked to release me from Beyonce Knowles Carter from their voodoo witchcraft since you like talking about her like that in a bad way and Nicki Minaj ask them to release me from their voodoo witchcraft on me and the streets I forgive you that is the answer forget about it , I love you and forgive you .
Thank you Governor Andrew Cuomo for my incubator .
If their wasn't a hex on me I wouldn't be on the computer talking horrifically I have voodoo witchcraft on me and I need it off like a will dance for food sign .
Do not read the next section this is me trying to get off the people that got the voodoo on me to get it off of me they got a voodoo curse on me and I need it off to carry on my normal life I really do wish the best for all people mentioned and huge success in life , though wish me luck a brother of mines called it surgery to remove all attachments on me or like the movie Iron man .
The people that do that work with police word is bond Nuri Muhammad told me to let the spray their poison while I feed this city and take care of the people they ain't no brother of his and they not Muslim or Christian or 5 Percenter and the kids they got using voodoo witchcraft are not no Muslims , Christian or 5 percenter they little devils like the rats that they work for stop working with police against me and with MTA workers they work with police and I wish they would stop trying to attach themselves to me and get off of me with police and that voodoo witchcraft and get out of my room and my head no thank you . NYPD is racist they got black people working with police minorities work with police in the hood especially people in the streets and yes the city of Brooklyn work with police just like they did in Michelle apartment get off of me and out of my life they used a woman with HIV Aids to work with police in Harlem New York City that is a damn shame Nuri Muhammad of the Nation of Islam called them dogs and swine the people that do that no group or gang specifically they jealous . Joyce Meyer call them Satan my worst enemies no thank you .
Get off me so you can make money and yeah everybody fired from my life I will run my incubator by myself from now on no thank you to the people that do that and the city of Brooklyn .
African Americans work with police tell them stop riding me and get off me and they can stop attaching themselves to me and mocking me I don't follow or support anything they do their music , art or movies no thank you . Bloods work with police word to their homie Casanova from Brooklyn flag he is a rat that can't sell music and never will and word to G Mack flag their homie from the Bronx they rats and we will never be cool and we have nothing in common they never accomplish anything I accomplished .
Cardi B is a dirty bum ass bitch from the Bronx that don't sell music and can't sell music she is a bird b ass bloodette bitch bum bitch and she wack and garbage her lyrical skills is dum trash wack bum ass bitch work with police word is bond .
Vado from Harlem and his cousin work with police on Biggie Smalls grave that is very true bloods , Vado and the industry work with police word is bond . African Americans try to work with police to sell their music , movies and television shows they garbage ass rats bitch sucked my dick to feed them and their family their mothers ,sisters , cousins and aunts no thank you I don't follow Hip Hop or Hollywood they can't sell and don't sell and no they can't use me to work with police them niggers done off in Hip Hop they don't make money so they hate and they work with police no thank you .
Aaron Henry Dahami Henry husband and Erin Henry father watch Michael Drayton take his cousin dick in his butthole the asshole pocket of his asshole now Vado got take a lie detector test to prove he didn't so he could sell records he got Mary J Blige to help him but he is a rat and can't sell music .
Casanova from Brooklyn can't sell music because he is a rat and can't return 2x times on his investment and he dying for his homie from the Bronx they dead ass rats that blood shit is garbage they jealous ass rats their content and music and movies is garbage . Now Nicki Minaj and Cardi B can't sell cosmetics or products because those racist ass crackers won't let them sellout ass bitches the bitch Nicki is sucking somebody dick to make money you know women need a gimmick to make money usually involve selling niggers out with police and racist white cracker bitches they got her under pressure now she can't sell cosmetics or any of her products from her brand and Cardi is a spic bitch latin bitch do she can't sell any products or cosmetics under her name . I don't watch power or that Black Mafia Family tv show I don't think anybody follow them sellout rat ass niggers on that show they can't get me to watch that dumb shit them niggers had their time in my life now they work with police to get ratings or because they can't get me to follow his show to help it do well . Niggers in New York City can't sell music their music and YouTube shows is garbage and audience is fixed so African Americans can work with police they are trash Vado and his cousin and his cousin and his sister work with police word is bond . Michael Drayton got fucked in his asshole his cousin dick entered in the inside of butt he got butt fucked when he was younger in front of my brother Aaron Henry Dahami Henry husband and Erin Henry father true story word to Biggie Smalls grave that is Vado from Harlem artist the still believe in love artist with Mary J Blige .
Sorry Teyana Taylor career is garbage wack ass bitch .
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non-stop-imagines · 5 months
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Cute
From this request 💖🤭
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Black Fem Content Creator!Reader (@/brinathedoll on ig faceclaim)
Summary: In which Charles thinks you're really cute and it gets annoying.
Word Count: ~10.4k words
Warning: Smut (p in v), face fucking, Hard!Dom Charles (bet that's a surprise), fingering, corruption kink (my best attempt), tummy bulge, "slut" being used a couple times, squirting, breeding kink towards the end, outfits, Twitter environment, mean comments, online translator French, ruining clothing, Minors DNI!!! 18+
A/N: It's 🏎️ anon's turn! 🥳 You have no idea how much I wanted to get to this one. Y'all already know how much I love Charles and this is my first smutty fic for him. I'm living the dream. 🤩 This one was fun, and the request was very helpful, very detailed it was a fic on its own! 🤣😚 Anyway hope you all enjoy. Thank you 🏎️ anon for your patience! I hope it lives up to your amazing idea! Love you all bbys!!! 💖💛💖💛💖
Translations: d'accord, mon amour=okay, my love;Putain de morveux=Fucking brat;Mon petit ange impatient=my eager little angel;Vous comprenez?=Do you understand?; Mon petit ange désordonné.=My messy little angel; Baise-moi=Fuck me; Mon parfait petit ange=My perfect little angel
Masterlist
______♥______
lyttleagnelyn
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Liked by carlossainz55 and 268,307 others
lyttleagnelyn 🌸°~♥Life with Charlie¹⁶♥~°🌸
View all 204 comments
charlesleclerc A perfect life if I say so myself 🥰
user1 🌸🩷🌸🩷
user2 You can see the obsession in his eyes 😍
lilymhe Cuties 🥰🪷🩷🌸
>lyttleagnelyn You and Alex are the blueprint 😚
user3 I need another clothing haul bc these outfits are so cute I CANT-
>lyttleagnelyn How about with a special guest? 👀
>user3 YES TF ❗❗
scuderiaferrari Petition for Charles' next special helmet to have rabbit ears on it 📜
>lyttleagnelyn I would happily help design it 🥰🐰
>charlesleclerc And I would happily wear it
>user6 If your your gonna DNF, you can at least look cute while doing it ☺️🌸🪷🐰
user4 That emo boys shirt is killing me cause you have the softest man in the world 😭
>lyttleagnelyn He tries his best 😔😭
user5 Charles.jpg in the works
>charlesleclerc I'm afraid those aren't for the public eye 😗
>lyttleagnelyn Charlie why??? 😭
>user5 Yes, Charlie why? 😭😭😭😭
>charlesleclerc They're just too cute for anyone else but me, mon ange
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"Thank you for doing this with me, baby. It'll be fun, I promise." You practically bounce around the excessive light pinkness of your filming room as you finish prepping everything for your video. Charles insisted that he created this room for you when you moved in with him months prior. "You need a room you feel comfortable in, mon ange." Is what he said when you tried to protest it, not wanting to take over his space, but here you were, getting ready to film on your pretty pink dedicated office.
"I don't doubt it, Mon ange." Charles sat in your computer chair, hugging to him a Hello Kitty plushie that originally sat close to it, watching you move around, waiting for you to start filming. "If it's anything like the makeup video, I know it'll be fun." He loved watching you in your element, around your things. He would paint his entire apartment pink if it meant he could see the smile you had and that sparkle in your eyes 24/7.
"You just liked the attention you got from that one." You walk over to him and fluff his hair bit before leaning down for a quick peck on the lips. "I have to give it to you, you knew your stuff."
"When your girlfriend takes as long as you do to get ready, you get curious." He's reluctant to release his arm that he wrapped around your waist when you approached him but he eventually does, letting his hand fall back to the plush in his lap when you head back over to the camera.
"Okay, ready?" You look back towards Charles, ready to press record on the tripod in front of you.
"Yep, ready." He gives you a thumbs up, now starting to twist in the rotating chair, still holding on to the stuffed animal. His eyes possessively surveyed you as you began your video.
"Heeelllooo my little lovelies, welcome back to another video. If your new here, hi, my name is Yn. I am here today with a very special guest making his first physical appearance on my channel, my loving and very trusting boyfriend, Charles. Aka Scuderia Ferrari Formula One driver Charles Leclerc." You beam, and playfully jog back to your computer chair, standing behind him and placing your chin on his head.
"Hello everyone." He doesn't even try to match your enthusiasm, going with his usual enthusiastic tone, because he knew from experience that no normal human being has as much energy as you do at any given moment.
"So if you noticed that I described my Charlie here as a very trusting boyfriend, it was because, unlike you all who know what this video will be, he does not. Charles just blindly agreed to joining me today. So, you want to know what I'm gonna have you do today?" You head was now next his, turned to the side so you were looking at his side profile which soon became a full view of his face where he gave you a quick kiss before answering.
"I would like to know, yes." He chuckled out his words and let an eye crinkling smile grow on his face.
"You, my love, are going to be rating some outfits for me made up of clothes that I already had and some stuff I just bought." You drape your arms over his shoulders, your full attention on him and his on you, you feeling warm under the excessively adoring eyes.
"Okay, that's interesting. So, like, on a scale of 1-10?" Charles seems to search for something in your face, a possible flicker of uncertainty that comes with ideas you have in instances where you liked the idea but the follow through made you too uncomfortable. This was not one of those times as you nod sprightly with gleaming eyes.
"Mhmm. If it's okay with you, of course. I kinda blindly roped you into this." Your smile drops slightly and one of your hands begin to swipe at Charles' over grown hair as you awaited his answer.
"If it's okay with you, it's definitely okay with me, mon ange. I like seeing your cute little outfits anyway." The eye crinkling smile was back on his face as you attacked his cheek with rapid-fire kisses, leaving light lip gloss marks.
"Thank you, baby! You're the best!" You press on last kiss you his lips and then plant yourself between the him and the camera to finish your intro. "Alrighty, let's not waste anymore time and get this started, shall we?" You turn to look at Charles catching him deep in thought, straight faced shifting jaw and darkened eyes. "I'll be right back with the first outfit, okay? You talk to the people." You disappear into the walk-in closet in the room to change, leaving Charles to do as told. Talk to the people.
"This is no different than when she usually comes home after shopping. I will happily stop whatever I am doing and watch her try on her new clothes." He looks away from the camera to take a brief gander around the room, knowing that you be able to edit the silent bits out later. His eyes roamed the light pink walls of the room, plastered in various equally pink posters, the white computer desk against the wall perpendicular to the bedroom door and a well organized pile of plushies on the other side of the room. The closest door to the right of the desk held an adorablely decorated mirror that directly faced the Classic Rose pink colored canopy bed that Charles also insisted was put in here for various reasons: being able to take naps, for example, when you wore yourself out from editing or other content related work that you would always throw your entire self into. There were, of course, less savory reasons that bed was in this room in that exact spot, but luckily the twist of the closest door knob brought him back to the reality and prepared him to see your first look.
"Okay, outfit number one. There will be about 10 by the way." You give that message to both your boyfriend and the camera before going back to posing and turning around so you whole outfit can be seen. You turn to face the camera to give your spiel on where each item was from whether it was part of the haul or you previously had it. Charles eyes moved up the back of you taking in how well the jeans fit your butt, how your shirt bunched up in the middle to show your midriff, giving your belly ring the backdrop it needs to be shown off against your brown skin. But none of those details caught his eye like the thin pink ribbon that was wrapped around your ponytail, bringing back that sense of innocence to the outfit that he enjoyed. Once you were done you turned to face Charles. "What do you think, baby?"
"You look very, very cute, Mon ange." You gleefully spin in another circle so he is able to get one more good look at the entire outfit.
"Mercí. So, on a scale of 1-10, what would you rate it?" You absentmindedly alternate a mild hyperextension of you knees as you waited for an answer.
"Erhm, I would rate it an 8." He says this with an emphasized tone that was very specific to him, pausing at certain words and elongating the "an".
"Okay...why an 8?" You walk into the hand that he lowly held out, ending up standing between his legs but standing to the side so the camera could see him, his fingers scaling over your exposed lower back.
"Uhh, again you look very cute, but it's a bit, uh, edgier that your other outfits. Also, you feel more comfortable in skirts than pants, no?" That gauging look was on his face, hoping that he had his facts straight and wasn't making a crude misjudgement.
"That's true, but these jeans made my butt look great, so I made an exception." You leave Charles' vicinity and move to your mirror to get a glimpse for yourself.
"That is true. The jeans fit you very well. That entire outfit fits you very well." His hands go back to squeezing the plush that he honestly forgotten was in his grasp when you walked out of arms length.
"Thank you." You bend over the slight bit to give him a short kiss, his thumb and ring finger needlessly propping up your chin. "Okay, next outfit!"
After another few minutes where Charles sat alone, reminiscing about the first outfit, you came out of your closet in the second outfit. "Okay, outfit number two."
The boy was stunned. He literally sat silent, jaw basically on the floor as he looked you up and down. "That is a 10. Hands down." He spoke with the utmost seriousness, making you feel a bit shy but also even more confident in the outfit that just felt completely you.
"That was quick. I didn't even get to talk to the people yet." You took a step closer to him letting the hand that he held out hold onto your thigh, fingers running over the pink fishnet stockings you had on.
"Oh, yes. Go do that." He shoots you away and you make quick work of explaining your outfit, wanting to hear why he was so swift in rating the outfit a 10.
"Okay, now why a 10?" You settle into his lap this time, plucking the plush from his lap and gently placing it on the floor.
"Well I love the pink. Pink is definitely your color." He pulls you closer to him as he examined your outfit a bit more. "The lace on your shirt, the uh-cor-um" He waves his hand around his own shirt, trying to remember the name of the type of shirt you had on that he has heard a number of times.
"Corset?" You remind him, your hands gravitating to his hair as they always do
"Oui! Yes, corset. The lace on it it beautiful. And I really like the stockings and the lace on those, too. This outfit really does make you glow." Your heart speeds up from how tenderly he says the last statement. His voice was a bit lower and more gruff, coaxing you into deep languid kisses until you remembered that the camera was still there, recording everything.
"Geez, your really trying to make me have to work at editing this thing huh?" You smack his chest and hand back the Hello Kitty plush that he accepts unhesitatingly, chuckling at your frantic realization.
"I have no idea what you are talking about." An adorable laugh is laced through his voice as he watches you disappear into the closet to change into your next outfit.
The rest of the video goes on basically in the same order: You come out in the outfit, give where each piece is from, and then turn to get Charles rating which was accompanied by various cheek warming praises ("You look absolutely adorable, Mon ange.", "That is perfect for you, baby.", "How are you so cute?"). After the last outfit, though, you had a small surprise for him.
"Okay, so I know I said 10 outfits, but I have one last thing I wanted to try on for you guys..." You spoke to the camera quickly then rushed off toward your closet, stopping and looking at Charles for a moment. "You're gonna like this one." And then as you did 10 times before, you disappeared behind the door, leaving Charles still holding the plush and racking his brain as to what this last outfit might be. A few minutes later, you open the door a crack. "So, I know that summer is nearly done, but there were so many swimsuits on sale so I knew I would've been crazy not to get at least one sooo..." You carefully step out of the closet with small steps, not yet passing the door for the camera to be able to see you. "You like it?" You bring pink acrylic nail to your teeth as you wait for an answer from, a now gawking, Charles.
"I-that-aaa-bwow. Ah, yes. I do like it. Alot." His eyes slowly move down your body, eyes obviously lingering on each piece of the bikini you had on. The lace trim that followed the curve of your boobs, the pink plaid and strawberry detailing. This then led to his eyes trailing down your exposed brown skin, shining against the pink like it always does, down your stomach, stopping briefly at your belly ring and then finishing down your legs, mind going to what's between them. He now finds a use for the Hello Kitty plush, clasping it to his lap to hide the major hard-on producing. He then cuts his eyes to the camera, remembering what he was there for, and cuts his eyes again, this time for the purpose of nonverbally asking "Are you okay with wearing that on camera?"
"Oh, it's fine, baby. I want to show them." You finally emerge from the closet to give a full view of yourself to the camera, going on to explain where the swimsuit is from and the details you like about it. Charles tuned every single word out now that he had a prolonged view of the backside on the ensemble, finally being able to see how great your ass looked, but it was a miniscule detail that really caught his eye. The thin pink ribbon that still held your hair in a ponytail. Your playful innocence flooding back to his vision of you in his mind, offseting the... provocative style of the girly patterned bikini. He clutched tighter to the plush in his lap.
"So, yeah. I just really liked it...and as you can see by the blank stare, Charles really likes it as well. It's different, huh? The fit of it is a bit sexier than my other ones, right?" You turn to Charles to ask the question and saunter into his arms, beginning to mess with his hair again just to see your decorated nails run through it.
"Sure, you could say that. But, um, I do really like you in it. It's very cute on you." He grins up at you with adoring eyes and gestures with his lips to request a kiss from you which you grant.
"Thank you. Now let me go put on some real clothes and I will be back to close out the video." You bound to the closet again after speaking to the camera. Charles sat patiently, the image of you in that bikini burned in his brain.
_________
"That was fun." Charles said as he finally got up from the computer chair, stretching out his limbs and carefully replacing Hello Kitty in the spot he plucked her from initially.
"Yay! I'm glad you had fun. I enjoyed it. You know how much I like trying out new outfit inspos." You unhook the camera from the tripod and briefly make sure at least something recorded.
"Inspos?" He stops his wandering about the room to inquire about the unfamiliar word.
"Short for inspiration, baby." You set the camera down and walk over Charles, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your chin on his chest.
"Ah. Yes, I do know how much you like trying on new clothes. And you looked adorable in each and every one. Especially that swimming suit." You giggle at yet another compliment and prop up onto your tip toes to accept the kiss he was craning his neck to give you.
"Thank you. For that and for doing the video." You hug close to him, getting a comforting huff of his cologne while his hand runs up and down your back.
"De rien, mon ange. Anything for you." He presses one more kiss to the top of your head, your vanilla scent strong enough to taste and thin pink ribbon in your hair still teasing him.
"Okay, you may go. Go do whatever Charles does while I edit, okay?" You wave him off toward the door and make your way to your desk, sitting criss cross on your computer chair.
"Okay, okay." He heads to the door to exit but turns to you, your back to him, already clicking through everything to begin editing. His eyes traced the pink ribbon that followed the gentle curve of your ponytail. That fucking ribbon. "Make sure you take a break, Mon ange. We can watch a movie or something."
"Okay!" You call back, waving him away. He giggled, shaking his head and closing the door most of the way. He had to distract himself. Every single outfit you tried on drove him crazy, the contrast the girlish pink ribbon added to each progressively provocative outfit, and the bikini, that drove him over the edge.
"Fuck it." Charles detoured into the bathroom and closed the door, pushing down his sweatpants just enough to release his cock from confinement, precum already beaded on the tip. Immediately he began stroking, providing the much needed friction to relieve the arousal that manifested. "Mon petit ange innocent, you drive my fucking crazy..."
_____
lyttleagnelyn
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Liked by lilymhe and 230,739 others
lyttleagnelyn A 10 in some 8s and 9s 🌸🪷🌸
(Go watch my new video and this will make sense. And to see the only outfit that was ranked a 10. Link in bio🩷)
View all 279 comments
user7 IT GIRL 🩷
charlesleclerc You should've showed them all 😚
>lyttleagnelyn Then they wouldn't have a reason to go watch the video 🥺
>charlesleclerc To watch your cuteness in action is reason enough
joris__trouche Next vid you pick out Charles' outfit 👀
>user8 Now here is a man of the people
>user9 You're saying that like Charles wouldn't absolutely love it 🥹
user10 It needs to be said that polar bear outfit is highly underrated
>user11 TURN IT UP 🎛️
lewishamilton 🩷😊
>lyttleagnelyn Thanks Lew 😚
>user12 I didn't know I need this friendship until this very moment and I will not accept anything less
user13 I don't know why but I love that she brings this style to the paddock bc them fits are starting to get boring 🩷
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__________
"Open your legs wider, Mon ange, so you can see your pretty little pussy in the mirror." Your eyes connected with his in the reflection of your pink themed mirror on your closet. The image was a completely lewd contrast to the back drop, you fully nude, legs splayed open, Charles' jean clad legs encircling yours and his arms, covered in the sleeves of his sweatshirt, leading to hands that were defiling you in their own ways. One was wrapped around your upper body, fondling your breast as the other caressed your upper thigh, drawing ever so close to your core.
"Like this?" He watched you in the mirror as you adjusted your legs, lazily rubbing at your clit as he instructed you to do earlier.
"Yes, perfect. Look at how cute you look." He presses his mouth to your hair, keeping his face there and allowing the thin pink ribbon he tied around your already up ponytail to tickle his face.
"Charles, I don't know how much longer..." Your hand starts to slow down drastically, almost stopping, but a firm grip on your wrist from Charles keeps the movement going.
"C'mon, amour. I know you can do better than this." His presses a couple kisses to your hair and then notches his head in the crook of your neck, eyes switching between your actual hand rubbing circles on your cute swollen cunt, and the reflection smiling back at him from the closet door. His other hand quickly swats 2 slaps to your tit, creating small shocked whimpers from you that he finds great amusement in. "Also, you know what to call me, Mon ange."
"Daddy, I don't know if I can do it again." Your hand got pressed into your clit some more, making slow but strong circles that make you whimper on repeat.
"I know you can give me one more, Mon ange." You concede and keep rubbing, the achy, over sensitivity making you lull your head back. You didn't notice that your eyes had been squeezed shut until they flutter open, relieving your eyelids of the strain and giving you a dreamy view of Charles, his eyes trained on the addictingly obscene reflection in the mirror. Unfortunately, the early comments from your video began ringing in your ears, taunting you, so you decide to test the waters.
"Nooo, what about you? I can give you one?" You effeciently remove your hand from his grasp and attempt to clumsily reach into his belted jean. He watched for a moment, charmed by your novice attempt at trying to get him off yourself, but just as easily as you had removed your hand, your wrist was being gripped again, this time with out the allowance of reach to his torso. You whine, defeated. He was your boyfriend. That's what boyfriends wanted their girlfriends to do, right? "I just want to make you feel good..."
"Making you feel good makes me feel good, Mon amour." He slowly guides your hand back to your clit starting the agonizingly slow, ineffective rub on your clit again. "But, if you really want to make me feel good, amour, you will make a mess for me, just like I know you can."
"But I don't think I can cum again..." Your hand keeps rubbing, but now the ache of your overused clit coupled with your bubbling frustration were already hard at work dampening your arousal. Seeing Charles in the mirror, his tongue swirling around his middle and ring finger is the only thing that seems to keep one last drop of sexual intrigue.
"I know, Mon ange. That's okay, because I am going to help you. You just have to keep your eyes on the mirror, d'accord, mon amour? And do not stop rubbing your cute swollen clit." He takes the two fingers, now lubricated with saliva, and rubs them over your slit before pushing both appendages inside you. The whimper you let out was choked, brain torn between annoyance and the painful pleasure you were feeling. You didn't want him to think that this would make you forget what just happened, but it was enough to make you forget for now. His fingers set an agonizingly slow pace at first, pulling all the way out and rubbing your arousal over your pussy lips and inner thighs, then plunging back in. He knew exactly how to curl his fingers, exactly how much pressure to place on the bumpy membrane of your g-spot, and the exact speed he has to move his fingers to get to the end he wanted. Honestly, he could've done this from the beginning. One and done. But he has felt a shift in your mood, so he wanted to show you how much he loved you in the way he believed he knew best. "Look at yourself, Mon ange. Look at how adorable your face is." He kisses along your cheek bone, eyes continuously fixated on the reflection.
"Daddy..." Your hand jolts from your clit to Charles wrist when his fingers abruptly speed up and you begin to feel pressure build in your pelvis, a gesture which he clicks his tongue at before using the hand that was still abusing your nipples to pluck it from his arm and motions for you to continue rub your clit.
"Squirt for me, Mon ange. Show me how messy my cute little girl can get. Ruin the sheets, I can get you pretty new ones." He kisses along your shoulder, reveling in the pornographic sounds and faces you made. He watched as you stare at yourself in the pink, Sanrio character covered mirror, unable to hide exactly how good you felt. You couldn't say anymore words, only whimpers, whines, and any other sexual sounding high-pitched noise bubbles from your chest as Charles brutally fucked you with his fingers at a blistering pace. Your vision gets spotty as the familiar sensation floods over you, pun intended. Charles' fingers continue as liquid sprays from you, legs straightening out and shaking as the convulsions of your third orgasm of the night take over your body, liquid flowing from you pooling at your butt, flowing around the blockage to get to Charles' jeans.
"See, Mon ange? I knew you could do it. You did so good for me." His fingers, now removed, traced languid shapes along the inside of your thigh, his other hand that never left your chest now sliding up to your neck, guiding your face upward so could proceed with a messy, rushed make out. You were nearly unconscious, still coming down from your high. "Let's get you cleaned up." You felt yourself being picked up bridal style, arms reflexively wrapping around your boyfriend's neck, face nestled into his shoulder. Your brain slowly became less clouded as you were carried to the bathroom, a reminder of your boyfriend's unwillingness to have you touch him, and how everyone may just be right...
_______
It's only been a week since you posted the video and already it's your most viewed, most liked video. The comments have been raving. So many positive things to say about your outfits and how much people can tell Charles loves you from the way he speaks to you and looks at you. But those weren't the ones that were plastered all over your mind. "Absolutely nothing about any of these outfits are sexy...", "How is Charles able to date this girl when she dresses like a child...", "I am failing to see what she has that Charlotte or Alex didn't have that makes Charles want to be with her...". It was literally only a handful of comments, but each one of them cut you like a knife, and had you laying on the living room couch, cuddled up to your boyfriend, questioning the security of your almost year long relationship.
Your head was resting comfortably on Charles' thigh, his hand moving along your right arm, caressing the flesh gently with his finger tips. You were in some of your favorite pajamas, but as the harsh comments continued to coil around your brain, you could feel yourself physically curling in, becoming increasingly self conscious of your style choices to the point where you were questioning what you wore in the comfort of your own home.
"Are you cold, Mon ange?" Charles pulls the plush pink blanket you kept on the back of the couch down and covers your body, rubbing his entire hand up and down your arm to relieve you from your suspected coldness.
"Baby, what did you think about Alex dressed? Or Charlotte? Did you like their styles?" You don't look at him, you knew you would cry upon eye contact. You could feel his body tense up at the mention of his exes, but he goes on to respond anyway.
"Hm? Why do you ask, Mon amour?" You could feel his eyes boring into the side of your head. He wanted you to look at him. He wanted to see the emotion your eyes gave away so he could gauge where the inquiry was coming from.
"Oh, I- uh...you know. Just wondering. We haven't really talked about your exes." You hope the answer was enough to curb his curiosity, feeling relieved when you feel his hand continue to move again and the vibration though his body as a low hum goes through him as he thinks.
"Uh, well. I guess their styles worked for them. Their personalities. They both were, um, quite, ehh, reserved." He removes his hand from your arm to scratch the side of his nose and then quickly replaced it.
"Would you say you preferred how they acted?" Fuck stealth, you wanted answers.
"Now, I wouldn't say that. Again it just kind of fit them. I can't really imagine them acting differently. Like you personality fits you. Your cute and, uh, bright and the clothes you wear are just as cute and bright." Your subconscious could here the pride in his voice when he made his point, but your forebrain just heard that word. Cute.
"But did you find their personalities more attractive? Like...sexier, or whatever?" You knew you over stepped when you feel his body tighten up again.
"Mon amour, what are these questions?" He chuckled to diffuse his tension, but he still added this moment to a mental list he was making of ways you seem to be second guessing yourself.
"Nevermind, it's stupid." You cuddle into his leg again, giving up on trying to get a clear answer on what Charles really thinks about you. Still he goes on to answer an unasked question.
"Mon ange, I love you, okay? I think you are absolutely perfect the way you are." His hand on your arm moved to your cheek, a singular digit turning your head toward him so he could kiss you. He was telling the complete truth. He loved you more than he could've ever fathomed. His eyes wandered over your face, how your brown skin and eyes glowed in the light of the television. You always just seemed to glow.
"Thank you, baby. I love you, too." You gave the obligatory answer that obviously held truth, but you couldnt help but let the negativity continue to echo through your head. As the night went, the program on the TV became static as you began to formulate a plan to make yourself undeniably irresistible to your boyfriend. Step one: Ditch the cute.
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"Mon ange? Are almost ready? We have to get going soon." Charles paces in the foyer of the Belgian hotel suite, typing out a message to his trainer that you two were heading down. He does stop for a moment, glancing toward the bathroom, adding another thing to his mental list of how you've been acting differently. You're mood has been off, much quieter and reserved, and he made another mental note when he realized you haven't talked about video ideas recently. Your outfits have been drained of the pretty pinks and whites and instead have been replaced by dark blues browns and blacks. Piggybacking off of that, it's always taken you some time to get ready makeup wise, but it's also been taking forever for you to get dressed, like you had to force yourself into these new, reserved outfits.
"Yeah, I'm ready..." You were hesitant to leave the bathroom. You worked hard to convince yourself that what you were wearing wasn't much different than what you usually wore. Sure the fully brown jumpsuit was technically darker than the primarily pink outfit staring at you from the floor...and you did prefer a skirt to pants...but this was still an outfit that you would be expected to wear. The addition of the cream colored cropped zip up added the softness to the outfit that allowed you to feel as comfortable as your possibly could. So after taking a deep breath and mentally coach yourself through nonchalantly exiting the bedroom, you approach Charles who breaks away from his thoughts and immediately notices the difference in your wardrobe.
"You look nice." He makes no move to leave the hotel room, wide eyes scaling your appearance.
"You didn't sound very confident about that." You finish applying a clear lip gloss in the mirror on the wall and then look up through your lashes at Charles and his unmoving body. Your heart rate increases as his uncertain tone replays in your head.
"Oh, no amour. You look adorable, really. Your outfits never fail to look beautiful. It's just...it's a bit darker than usual. I'm not used to seeing you in brown. It looks very pretty on you." No smile manifests on his face, instead a wide eyed look that signified that his entire focus was on you, but you still felt the sincerity behind his compliment. But "pretty" and "beautiful" still rang through your head like the most annoying bells ever. The only words that he used to describe how you looked in the skin tight brown bodysuit.
"Thank you, Charlie." You lift yourself up a bit on your tip toes to give Charles a peck on the lips, which he had a delayed reaction to, puckering when your lips had already made contact with his, like his mind was somewhere else. That was further obvious when he stayed stand there, squinting at you, running his "Yn's been acting different" list through his brain. "We should get going..."
"Oh! Yes! Sorry, mon ange. Let's go." He jolted out of his trance, suddenly back in the present where he had to start getting mentally ready for a singular practice session before going into qualifying. And there you were, following close behind, grabbing Charles hand that had reached out for you like a heat-seeking missile.
__________
You decide, for the practice session at least, that you were going to sit up in as private of an area of the Paddock Club you could find. You didn't have the energy to hear anymore "You look different but still cute!" compliments. You knew they all meant well, and they were all only mildly annoying. Kika said it in excitement, asking where you got the jumpsuit from. Daniel came up to give you hug, telling you that you looked "really cute today." Lewis' complimented your outfit, but he also asked how you were doing, dipping his head so he could look you in the eyes as you confirmed that you were fine.
In a normal situation, you would've loved this amount of attention, but when your mind has been flipping through painful past memories where people doubted anything you did and told you that you wouldn't get anywhere dressing the way you did, the last thing you wanted to hear was anyone else saying that you "still looked cute". Yes, you were fully aware that you got to this point in your life, viral video, and thriving YouTube channel and the hottest, most supportive boyfriend on the planet by embracing this aesthetic that allowed you to essentially just be truly and unapologetically you, but what if that cup was running out? What if people were initially pulled in because of the aesthetic, but expected you to change eventually? What if that was what Charles was thinking?
You had already found an empty table in an unfounded corner of the large open room, a large white wall with a TV screen on it, partitioning you from the rest of the room, giving you the moment of soliace you needed. You even briefly closed you eyes to take a deep breath and ground yourself, and it was working until you heard heels clicking toward you. The quiet attempt at retreating is what finally made you open your eyes.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I saw you and was about to come say hi, but then I saw you trying to...meditate or something..." It was Lily.
"You can sit, you know..." You giggle at the fact that she was still standing, but your small smile falls a bit when you see her eyes moving around your appearance.
"Oh, yeah. I like the look, by the way. It's-" You interrupt her words by with a quick "stop" hand gesture that seemed to stop her words and her motions, making her freeze mid-sit.
"If you say 'cute', I am going to rip every piece of hair that I have in this claw clip out." The look you gave Lily made her hesitantly finish sitting, and rethink her compliment.
"You look...nice. Good. Great. Am I getting close?" She places a comforting hand on your shoulder, rubbing gently when you let your head fall onto the back of your hands on the table.
"You're fine. These past few weeks have been...a lot." Lily's hand doesn't move, even when you lift your head enough to turn and look at her.
"What? Your video?" You listlessly lift the rest of your body up from the table and turn to her, not making eye contact and instead messing with your nails, the only part of your outfit that actually fully expressed you.
"Yeah, technically. I never expected it to do that well, but there have been comments..." You look out the window in front you when you hear the approaching cars and let your eyes try too hard to track each car that goes by.
"All I have seen were rave reviews about your outfits and how in love Charles is with you." Her hand is finally removed from your person after her comment, reaching in her clutch that was placed on the table and pulling out her phone.
"Yeah. I guess those are the majority, but there have been other ones...meaner ones..." You trail off into your own thoughts while more cars roared by, continuing to speak when you have the prolonged feeling of Lily's eyes on you, waiting to see where you were going with it. "Lily, how often does Alex say you look sexy in something?"
"I-uh-woah. You caught me off guard there, um..." She stopped to seriously consider your question. "I guess kinda often. Mainly when he can tell I'm excited about an outfit or it's, like, a special occasion. Why?"
"Charles has only ever said I was "cute". Or "pretty". Or "beautiful". Never sexy. Not even if I try to lead him into saying it." You turn around for a moment to check where Charles stood on the practice session leaderboard and how much time was left. "I honestly have no idea if Charles thinks I'm sexy."
"Oh, honey. I'm sure he does." Her fingernails went to caressing up and down your back as she turned all of her focus towards you while Alex goes 3rd fastest.
"A boyfriend that finds his girlfriend sexy would want to, like, fuck her 24/7, right?" You whispered the obscenity as to not attract unwanted attention, but you still asked the question in search of some well needed validation.
"I mean, in theory, I guess. But everyone's relationship is different." She continues to move her hand over your back and you push some of the longer hair from your bangs out of your face.
"Lily, we've been dating for almost a year now, and we've never actually...done it." It felt almost embarrassing to admit it. Everyone talks about how in love you and Charles are but you two have yet to take that step to show your intimate devotion to each other, sans the other things you guys have done you guys have done.
"Maybe he just doesn't feel like it has been the right time. He must have his reasons." You appreciated Lily's optimism.
"Like I'm just too cute to fuck. He doesn't want to defile me." This was the first joke you've made about the situation, and laughing about it felt so good. But you still needed answers, and your question just gave you some direction. "Maybe that's it. What could I wear to make Charles think I'm sexy enough to fuck?"
"I didn't expect to have this conversation when I woke up today. Um...something you can wear?" She took a moment to think and you could see the light bulb in her head switch on. "Lingerie! That's literally 'being sexy 101'. Something hot and lacey. And probably in a darker color, really lay it in thick. He's already obsessed with you, that'll make sure he can't keep his hands off of you."
"Lily, you genius!" You exclaimed, catching her off guard again, this time by throwing your arms around her neck and giving her a couple of light, glossy pecks to the cheek.
"Anything to help." You were already typing away at your phone, nearly vibrating with excitement, imagining Charles reaction. Another round of car roaring traveled by, but the speed of those machines had nothing on that of your scrolling thumbs.
___________
You stood in the overwhelming yet soothing pink of your filming room, admiring yourself in your new lingerie set. Well trying to. It looked really good on you but you couldn't wrap your head around how there aren't more complaints about how itchy the lace is.
"Well, Yn, when the point is to have it taken off of you, the comfort of the fabric doesn't matter, does it?" You chastise yourself, checking out the back one last time, squirming from the uncomfortable g-string underwear. "Okay, let's do this." You take a deep breath and shake out any last minute jitters before calling out to your boyfriend. "Charlie, could you come here?"
"Coming, mon ange." His voice was far off in the distance, but it still made your heart jump up into your mouth and then travel down into your stomach. You look at yourself in the mirror again, trying to ground yourself, but then you heard his footsteps and you gave up on calming yourself down. This was a special moment, nerves are normal and should be expected. "What's up...oh my..."
You were trapped under Charles' stare. Wide eyed, his tongue darting out to usher his bottom lips into his mouth. But then his eyebrows scrunched together and his jaw shifted, so you had to speak to break the nerve racking tension. "You like it?" You wanted to be a bit sexier, but in preparation for this, you only put effort into finding the lingerie. Acting sexy was still foreign to you.
"Uh, yeah. You-you look beautiful, Mon amour. You look beautiful in everything." He walks towards you, eyes dancing over your figure as he reaches for your hands to pull you into him but moving his hands to the sides of your face when you wrap your arms around his torso.
"Just beautiful?" You voice was high trying to coax the right words from him.
"You look absolutely amazing, Mon ange. It's just, you seem uncomfortable." You twist your head like a confuse me puppy. Yeah, you were uncomfortable, but comfort wasn't the point.
"I just wanted to try something different. For you." You unwrap your arms from his waist and rub them up and down his chest.
"Oh, you didn't have to do this for me. I adore you in the cute little underwears you normally wear." That was a last straw for you. That word has been the bane of your existence for the past three weeks. To the point where you haven't even wanted to be around your stuff, which made you even more stressed. You haven't been around your comfort items or felt comfortable enough to film again, so this was you last chance at trying to feel like yourself again and it was blown by a singular word.
"'Cute'. Is that all you can fucking say about me. That I'm cute?" You had pulled away from Charles and placed your hands on your hips.
"Mon amour, I don't understand. Why are you angry?" Truthfully he wishes he was still holding you. He liked to feel your skins under his fingertips. But he instead crosses his arms, watching you pace angrily around the room. His brain couldn't think straight as he watches different parts of your body bounce as you walked.
"Well let's see? The word 'sexy' apparently isn't a part of your vocabulary when it comes to me. Because you refuse to fuck me." You counted out your grievances on your fingers, adjusting the itchy ass bra you had on that pissed you off even more.
"Amour, we definitely have-" Charles attempts to employ a calming tone to try and diffuse your anger, but it was a futile effort.
"Charles, your tongue and fingers do not count." The death glare you gave would've been enough to scare him off in a normal situation, but your temper tantrum was making him just as mad as you already were. "I even had the bright idea that maybe if I acted and dressed like Alex, or Charlotte, or even fucking Giada, that you would maybe want to fuck me. Boy was I wrong!"
"Okay, stop!" And you did. Stopped in your tracks. You turn to face Charles, arms crossed so your boobs were further smashed together in your lacey bra. "I don't know why you keep talking about my exes, but that is going to stop. There is absolutely nothing about them that made me more attracted to them or made me want to...fuck them more than you." It was his turn now to pace in frustration. His hands run through his hair as he tries to block the visual of you in your skimpy lingerie from running through his mind. "You want the truth, Mon amour? I think about fucking you all the time. I think about the noises you'd make, and how cute-yes, cute- you'd look while I fuck you senseless. When you look really cute, like when you have that little pink ribbon in your hair, I think about how you'd look with my cock in your mouth, your pretty eyes looking up at me. Your perfect makeup ruined because of me."
"Wait, so all this 'cute' stuff is just your way of saying you think I'm sexy?" You still had your arms crossed but you were looking up at him innocently, now feeling a bit guilty about being so frustrated with him for the past few weeks.
"Oui, Mon ange. Exactly." He takes a couple of slow steps to walk across the room to you, placing his large hands on the sides of your hair, bring your forehead to him for a kiss. "I think you are extremely sexy. Cute just fits you better. And it doesn't mean that I want to fuck you any less. Now, let's get you out of that and into something you can be more comfortable in..." There's a chuckle in his words as he tries to guide you to your wardrobe, but you don't budge. He should've stopped while he was ahead.
"Wait, no. First, I'm not taking this off. Second, if how I dress hasn't stopped you, than why haven't we fucked?" You take a step back, stopping and standing with your hip flared out and your head defiantly cocked to the side.
"You know what? If that's what you want, fine. Fine! Putain de morveux." He whispered the French to himself as he removed his shirt in a swift smooth motion. Him succumbing to your pleas and attitude was a shock, literally having you frozen in your spot, wide eyed with a small grin growing on your face. "Mon petit ange impatient, you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into." He approaches your frozen frame, almost angrily examining the dark lace fabric that barely covered your body. "This has to come off."
"Oh-Hey wait-!" The rip to the bra made you want to cry, and honestly you had no idea why. You wanted it off. It was fucking itchy.
"Don't cry. I'll get you something just like it, only...cuter." He was obviously taunting you now, a dark glint in his eyes as gave you a devioua grin, daring you to retaliate. But you stay silent, only looking up at him through your eyelashes, eyebrows furrowed. "What? No argument?" One of his hands begin to travel up your stomach to your breast, his rings scrapping over your nipple when his thumb was done running over the nub. Your curiosity reigned supreme as you watched his hand grope you body, and even still you had little warning when his hand rushed up to your neck, lodging right underneath you jaw, applying a small amount of pressure. The location of his hand forced you to look at him, eyes already dazed. "I'm gonna fucking ruin you, Mon ange. That's what you want, huh?" You nod, head still trying to wrap around the mood shift in the room. "Answer me." The pressure on your trachea increases slightly.
"Yes, Daddy." You whine out, the high pitch sounding raspy from the squeeze on your windpipe.
"Non, until you learn how to act, it is Sir. Vous comprenez?" You go to nod, but your neck received a warning squeeze.
"Yes sir!" You quickly corrected yourself, taking deep gulps of air when you're released.
"Bon." He goes back to eyeing you, face blank sans the shifting of his jaw while he thought. "On your knees." Your brows furrow in reaction to the command, initially confused but following directions anyway, slowly falling down to your knees. Charles bends over, capturing you chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilting your face up to look at at him. A grin flashes onto his face and you being to reciprocate the gesture when a his hand applies a stinging slap to your left cheek. "If I tell you to do something, do it immediately. Okay?" The grin stays on his face, unwavering. The fact the he was holding such a calm face after such an offense made your heart race, and unexpectedly sparked a bit of arousal in you, causing you to feel wetness begging to pool between your thighs.
"Yes sir." You sit back into your heels as you answer, eyes still watching his eyes darken, a pout on your face.
"You're a quick learner." His finger gives the bottom of your chin a couple of taps and then one tap on the side as his focus turns to the thin pink ribbon lazily sprawled out on your desk. You head follows his movements as he saunters over to the desk, plucks the ribbon from it, and saunters back over to you, standing behind you. A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers gather up your hair and tie the ribbon as tight as possible around the ponytail he created. "This will be helpful for me and you, Mon ange." His words vibrate through your whole body, his warm breath tickling your ear. When he's done he stands back up and walks back around to stand in front of you, the bends down to run his hands down your triceps to pull your arms out in front of you after previously resting on your lap. He continues on to hook your fingers on the waistband of his sweatpants and his underwear. "Take them off for me, mon amour." Learning from the previous instruction experience, you didn't hesitate with pulling at his pants, brain curious about what will follow. It wouldn't have been the first time you've seen Charles' dick, it just would've been the first time your focus was solely on it, so your excessive eagerness caused a lack of awareness and you were shocked to say the least when it hits you in the face. You flinch away from the appendage initially, but take him in your hand, semi-hard and pink tip glistening with the slightest bit of pre-cum. "You're little face was so adorable just then, mon ange. A little bit larger than you expected?"
He was. You had only seen him in passing. While he was changing or getting out of the shower, and when you did see him he was mostly soft, so seeing him up close, and seeing that as he grew harder from being under your observant gaze he was almost as long as your forearm, it was intimidating. "Yeah. Quite a bit bigger."
"Open your mouth. Stick your tonuge." Your mouth only begins to form the word why when your receive another harsh slap to your face. "Let's try this again. Open your mouth...and stick out your tongue." You do so immediately, looking up at him with a tear rolling down your face from the sting on your cheek that he wipes away with his thumb. "If you want me to fuck you like the little slut you are being, you should know that sluts do what they are told." His thumb continues to gently caress your tingling cheek, but towards the end of his statement he begins to stroke himself slowly, dangerously close to your tongue. "Open a little wider, mon amour." You do as best as you can, your jaw already feeling sore and it hasn't even been a minute.
You try your best to not flinch when Charles guides himself into your mouth, but you didn't have to worry about it because once he felt he was in enough, he brought his right hand down to grab onto you ribboned ponytail to force his cock the rest of the way down your throat. Once your nose hit his pelvis he pulled back on your hair to remove your mouth from him, you making the most obscene gaging noise as he does so. A string of slobber momentarily connects you with the head of his cock before it drops of onto your chin and Charles swears it's the cutest thing he ever saw. "Let's see what your pretty throat can do, mon ange." His dick approaches your mouth again and on instinct you open your mouth, looking up at him as the pushes in, the thick vein that ran down his shaft gliding along your tongue.
The moment his dick hit the back of your throat, more tears began to fall from your eyes, but when you briefly look down, you saw that he still had a bit more of him to stuff down your throat before he reaches the depth he did before. Once he does finish stuffing your mouth, nose at his pelvis again, you rapidly tap at his thighs, making him pull out again. "Yes?" The way he asked way condescending, using the grip he had on your ponytail to make you look up at him. You were quite the sight. Mascara starting to run down your face and your lips and chin glistening from slobber.
"I couldn't breathe." Your whine was raspy and you could stop blinking your eyes as they burned from the mixture of tears and mascara.
"Oh, ma Cherie, focus on breathing through your your nose, okay?" You nod your head and then dutifully reopen your mouth allowing Charles to slide into your mouth again. You do as instructed, trying to focus on breathing through your nose, but soon that became more difficult as he employed his hips in getting his dick down your throat. The sound of your gagging and the sloppy sound of saliva spilling from your mouth with each thrust were a supplemental driving force in bringing him closer to cumming. For you, his grunts and groans, his praises ("You're mouth feels so nice, amour" "You look so cute like this, mon petit ange désordonné."), and the small glimpse you get of your head being forced up and down his cock in your pink framed mirror all did their part in making your pussy so wet that the juices started soaking through the dark fabric of the panties you still had on. You didn't realize that you were zoning out, having to use little brain power as your throat was being used, until he abruptly pulled out, yanking your head to make you look at him again, face more fucked out than before and he hasn't even fucked you properly yet.
"You have no idea how much I wanted to cum down your throat, but I still have to give mon petit ange what she was whining for." He releases your hair and finally steps out of his pants in order to walk over to your pile of stuffed animals. "Ass in the air for me, Mon amour. And here, for your head." He tossed the same Hello Kitty plushie that used to hide his boner during the YouTube video to you and you absentmindedly do as told, enjoying the idea of giving your upper body a break. The way you positioned yourself had you facing the mirror on the closet, so Charles was able to see your tired messy face laying on the plush Sanrio character as he got behind you and pulled the black thong you still had on to the side revealing and sliding his fingers through your already slick folds. You flinch and whimper when the callous pads of his index and middle fingers graze and briefly rub your clit. "Tell me what you want, amour. Use your words."
"Want you to fuck me, sir." You were near falling asleep from the surprising amount of energy that was exerted having your throat used by Charles, but you were still determined to get what you wanted from this entire endeavor.
"Just wanted to check." He removes his fingers from your clit and adds what juices he did gather from you to his cock that was still slick from your mouth. He the line himself up with your entrance that was fully exposed for him and with little to no warning begins to push inside you. He still knew better than to rush it, slowly pushing himself past your folds, but not stopping until he filled you to the hilt. "You're so fucking tight, mon ange. Baise-moi."
"Wait, Charles. You're-I-" He wasn't all the way in when you began talking but once he's finished pushing inside you, you let out the most guttural groan he has ever heard from you. But you still comitted the grave offense of not calling him the right name, so the hard smack you received on your ass brought back the high pitched whine he's heard time and time again. "Sir! Sorry, sir!"
"It's okay, mon amour. I know it was an accident." He has yet to attempt to move, the grip your pussy had on him made him briefly question if it was even possible, but before he tried he bent down as much as he could to get as close to your ear as possible. "I gonna fuck you like the little slut you want to be. Give mon petit ange exactly what she wants." Your ponytail had flared out over you face, so Charles reached to move your hair out of your face before straightening his back again and griping your ass firmly to finally back his hips out and thrust inside you again. You let out similar groans after each slow thrust he gives, whimpering after a while and wiggling your hips a bit to see if you were able to make how full Charles had you feeling more comfortable.
"You feel so deep. I think I feel you in my tummy..." Everything you said came out whiney as you cuddled your head into the plush beneath it. You were completely oblivious to the curiosity you just sparked in your boyfriend, that is until you feel his arm reach across just above your breasts to lift you up so your back was pressed against his chest, now getting the clearest view of yourself being fucked in the pink decorated mirror.
"Let me see." He hitched his hips into you and his eyes couldn't believe what he saw. "Mon amour, look," He moved his right arm underneath your breasts so he could use his left hand to make you look at yourself in the mirror. He pulled out and thrusted into you again and so you could watch as his dick pressed into your stomach, making the bottom of your tummy poke out slightly. "You can see me in your tummy. That is adorable, mon amour!" It was like this sight flipped on another switch in his brain, a switch adjacent to the one that has made him act so cruel. His thrusts became quicker as he reached for your hand to place on top of the disappearing and reappearing bulge. "Keep you hand there amour, I want you to feel how well I'm fucking you."
"Yes, sir." You moan out as best you could, working to make sure your hand doesn't get knocked from it spot. Charles adjusts his arms so that he had a firm grip on you and a hand that could easily reach your clit. Immediately upon beginning to rub, you start to whine and whimper like when you were close to coming when he fingered you or ate you out. In fact, he knew these specific moans meant he would have to brace for a mess.
"Are you gonna cum for me, amour? Make a mess all over your pretty pink room?" His warm breath and thick accent turned your brain to mush, so all you could do to answer was nod, but you felt his grip around you tighten after you do, your only indication that you did something wrong. "Oh, mon ange. If you want to be a good little slut for me, you have wait for me to tell you when to cum. Now you have to wait for me."
You wanted to cry. All the other times he was cruel to you in this fashion it was at least after you got to orgasm a couple times. But denial was an entirely different beast that had tears running down your face as wordless whines erupt from your chest.
"Amour, you feel so good around me. I could fuck you forever. I can't believe I was missing this." You both were in your own worlds, so as he spoke and rambled on about how good it felt to fuck you and how cute and dazed you looked, you brain turned it into white noise, trying hard to focus on the instruction that Charles gave you. You wanted so desperately to be good for him.
"I'm gonna cum, amour. Cum so deep inside you. Make that tummy bulge stay for a while. My first time fucking you and I get to fuck a baby in you." He became progressively less coherent, and surprisingly more french, the closer he got to cumming, and the combination of the warm feeling of cum spurting inside of you and the quick movement of Charles' fingers on your clit that came with his reaction brought you over your prophesized edge, the a mixture of squirt and cum coating your thighs. Charles keeps his firm grip on you as you ride out your shaking orgasm, still coming down from his own high, sprinkling kisses along the side of your neck and whispering praises in both English and French. "You are so perfect for me amour. Mon parfait petit ange."
"I love you, Daddy." You reach back and tangle you fingers in his hair to bring him in for a sloppy kiss, face still messy from the start of the evening.
"I love you too, mon ange. I'll, uh, make more of an effort to tell you you're sexy more often." He maneuvers himself to be able to lift you up into a bridal hold, giving you a small peck on the forehead.
"You don't have to. Cute is just fine. I promise not to be so much of a brat." You wrap your arms around his neck and lean in for a near make out session, giving a few deep kisses that allowed you to tangle your tongue with his.
"I like when you're a little bratty. It is actually very adorable, because you don't do it very well." He chuckles while bracing for a couple of slaps on the chest from you.
"Oh, also, the, uh, baby thing...were you serious?" He began to finally make his way to the bathroom as you inquired about the words he said during his orgasm rambling.
"I guess we'll see, won't we?" This time he stifles his chuckle but doesn't conceal the large grin that grows on his face at your shocked face, kissing the crease between your brows. "Come, mon ange. Let's get you cleaned up."
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chaoticace2005 · 1 month
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Spiders, their senses, and Angel Dust implications
I already screamed to @xxqueenofdragonsxx about this but figured I’d put it out there because I was doing research and I can’t stop thinking about it.
While we don’t know how canon it is to the show, this does have some implications for fanfics and is fun to consider.
Spiders don’t have ears. Or noses. Or tongues.
People have already made jokes about Angel’s lack of a nose, but it tracks with that fact. We also don’t see his ears, although we have seen his tongue (which, given he isn’t an actual spider there can be some allowances made.) Yes, he doesn’t have pedipalps to act as a substitution for his nose/tongue, but that isn’t the only place they can smell/taste things.
It’s their legs/feet(?). Their legs and bodies have sensory hair cells that allows them to detect vibrations in the air, as well as changes in electrical fields (which… Vox and Alastor implications? Can Angel sense them.) Humans hear via sensory hair cells too, but those are concentrated in the cochlea of the inner ear and surrounded by the outer/middle ear system (eardrum, etc.) Spiders don’t have that. They also have chemoreceptors that can smell and taste things.
Now, as someone who didn’t know much about spiders it’s cool to think about in terms of a character with some spider-like characteristics. But then I thought about this other aspect of Angel
His clothing
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More specifically his constant usage of gloves/long sleeves/boots. We know he hates his spider feet, and yeah, the usage of gloves and his blazer can be to fit his style, but it’s also fun to think that maybe him wearing them is an active attempt to reduce sensory input? He’d still get some vibration input because the fabric won’t block everything, but it won’t be as direct. But since spider sensory organs aren’t localized like humans are, this could essentially be the equivalent of wearing a headphones. (Also do you really want to taste every single thing you touch?)
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Which brings me to the second order of business: when he DOESNT wear his gloves. We do see him have to be bare for the camera, and if you consider him wearing clothes as a way of sensory modulation, he could essentially be forced to get all that input. Sensory overload would already be so ways in a place with so many sounds, lights, smells, etc. but imagine if you also have to do that when not used to such a level of exposure?
In humans there’s a condition called hyperacusis, which is basically a reduced pain and discomfort threshold to sounds. Some everyday ones can cause pain. Some neurodivergent people also have sensory sensitivities like that, in both cases sometimes headphones can help to reduce input.
The thing is though, if you constantly wear them you’re reducing your own threshold. It’s not recommended for people with hyperacusis to wear earplugs all the time because it makes them even more sensitive when not wearing them.
So, if you apply the same principle here, there is even more reason to consider the idea Angel would have some level of overstimulation just from not having his clothes on, combine that with the work environment, what he has to do, and the emotional turmoil of it all and that just makes it worse.
Which… with me anyways I’ve found when I’m too overloaded my brain tends to nope out and dissociate. So that could be what happens to Angel as well.
Then, there is one time outside of the studio we see him with uncovered arms and that’s the battle at the hotel.
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Here, he’s wearing gloves but his arms are exposed. So it could be said that he’s allowing himself access to more input while also not overwhelming himself. He still has a buffer with the gloves on, but he also has heightened awareness for things around him.
Again, the amount of this actually being applicable in canon is hard to say. Sense we don’t know how spidery Angel really is (since again, he does have a tongue) and what level of research went into that aspect of their character designs. But I think it’s a fun thing to consider.
So uhhh… yeah. Totally normal about this all as someone who totally isn’t interested in audiology, hyperfixating on hazbin hotel, and neurodivergent myself.
(Update: there is now a fic)
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delirious-donna · 4 days
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Coffee And A Smoke [Higuruma Hiromi]
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an: another suggestion for Hiromi that I couldn’t pass up. I feel like this has potential for more but I’d really have to do some plotting and brain crunching before I could commit.
pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader
warnings: smoking (is it obvious from this that I don’t smoke and never have? I hope not but…), SFW, very light flirting if you squint, mention of toxic habits, alcohol mention
Masterlist
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Higuruma always felt a pang of sympathy for new starts. They had a habit of reminding him of his earliest days as a freshly qualified lawyer, his excitement to change the world and be the type not to back away from the difficult fights.
For a while, he had been that man and took on David and Goliath level cases to test his resolve, to prove that a person with enough determination and hard work could be the victor. Sadly, it didn’t last long.
He hoped you wouldn’t fall from grace quite so quickly or inelegantly as he had once done. Hiromi might not care for his reputation being tarnished these days, the dross he was tossed like it was a kindness to him, but he would never wish it upon anyone else.
You appeared only a handful of years younger than he was, and he wondered if you were maybe late to the career. It made him wonder how bad your previous line of work might have been to make you consider this circle of hell as your new livelihood. There was more than a chance that he would never know, he didn’t exactly draw people to him in the workplace. Rather he was looked upon mostly like a kicked puppy that everyone felt sorry for but never approached to comfort for fear of catching fleas.
Picking up his pen, the chewed end finding its home between his teeth, Hiromi returned to his work and put you out of his mind.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to the man over in the far corner?” You wondered aloud, the young secretary designated to be your ‘day one buddy’ glanced in the direction you were looking and visibly grimaced.
“Another day. He’s busy,” she countered with a wave of her hand.
Frowning at her dismissive tone and attitude, you looked over again and met with tired, hangdog eyes. He blinked, seeming unperturbed and gave a small bow of his head before turning back to his screen. There was something about this man, you couldn’t for the life of you figure it out, but something intrigued you more than it should.
The interaction did not go unnoticed. “That’s Higuruma Hiromi. He’s rather… particular about the cases he takes. Generally, he keeps to himself.”
You wondered if he was lonely, or maybe not well versed in socialising. Whatever it was, there was an aura surrounding his corner of the large office, like a perpetual rain cloud that threatened to rain but the cloud never burst.
With so much to learn and an entire new work environment to navigate, you quickly forgot all about the mysterious Higuruma and focused on finding your feet.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later did you find yourself in his presence. After a tortuous phone call with a troublesome client, you found yourself in desperate need to indulge in the bad habit you had sworn you’d given up, a cigarette.
Stepping outside into the small office courtyard, you fumbled for the emergency packet buried in the depths of your bag. You cursed when you realised you might have the actual cigarette you craved, but there wasn’t a lighter in sight, not even tucked away in one of the handy dandy compartments.
“Need a light?”
You whirled around and nearly landed on your behind at the sudden voice, coming face to face with Higuruma who had the good grace to look sheepish for scaring you out of your skin.
“It seems so,” you said with a shrug, stepping closer as the man held out his lighter and flicked the flame into life for you. “I don’t smoke often.”
Higuruma hummed in understanding, glancing down at his own half-finished cigarette, tapping away the excess ash. “I’d like to say the same, but I’m out here more often than I’d like.”
That first inhale felt like heaven, the heat in your throat a familiar sensation and you held the thick smoke in your mouth as long as you could manage, finally blowing it out in a steady stream into the sky.
“Bad habit?” You asked, leaning against the metal railing that enclosed the small courtyard space. It was cool even through your trousers, grounding you back into the here and now.
“I have a lot of those, smoking is probably the least bothersome. I can go days without a single cigarette, or I could smoke two packets within a single office day. There never seems to be an in between,” he joked.
It was hard not to appraise him whilst you both stood there, enjoying your respective cigarettes. His shirt wasn’t quite the brilliant white of a new or well cared for garment, nor were the tailored creases in his trousers especially neat or crisp. The tie around his throat was loose as if restless fingers had tugged it that way, and his hair was equally as ruffled. Yet, there was still something undefinable that made you smile at these observations, that endeared him to you.
His eyes were adorned with dark circles from sleepless nights but there was a subtly vibrancy to those eyes. The brown irises with golden flecked in the right light and the smattering of laughter lines at the corners assured you that this was a man who liked to laugh, even if you were yet to hear it in the workplace.
He wore an equally tired smile, however, it brightened when you addressed him directly and you wondered if he thought hi would ignore his presence. If that was maybe what he was used to, and that thought didn’t sit well with you.
“Oh yeah? Let me guess… you enjoy a bottle of wine on most nights?”
“Or two,” he countered, making you laugh.
Honestly, you couldn’t understand why he was considered the black sheep of the firm. From everything you had seen and heard, he wasn’t the money grabbing type and maybe that was the reason for him being a pariah, but that wasn’t a reason to brush him off or avoid him outright.
“Y’know… people will talk if they see you chatting with me.” Higuruma crossed an arm over his chest, a defensive gesture if ever you saw one.
You hummed in thought. Not that you really cared what people had to say about you. “I think I can make my own decisions on who I should and should not speak with. Are you always this cautious?”
“Some might say I have no caution at all.”
“Then why are you trying to warn me off?”
Higuruma’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, a plume of smoke emitted from between his pursed lips to momentarily obscure his face. “Didn’t realise I was under cross-examination. You’ll go far,” he mused before crushing out the remnants of his smoke and bringing out a packet of mints from his pocket.
“I don’t know about that… this career isn’t exactly what I anticipated.”
He waited, sensing there was more you wanted to share, and he had no desire to scare you away or shut you down prematurely. You couldn’t put your finger on the reason why you wanted to confide in him, perhaps you felt some kind of kindred spirit in him but that would be foolish having known him all of five minutes.
“Higuruma, do you fancy a coffee? My treat,” you offered in a rush. Embarrassed by how nervous you were to ask at your big age, and more so worried that he would refuse you flat out.
“I’d like that, but there is something I’d like much more.”
You held your breath, not knowing what he could possibly wish for more. He chuckled at your look of concern, stepping forward to offer you a mint from his pack.
“I’d really like to know your name.”
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Note
Hello! It's me again. I'm probably pestering you, lol. I think a lotta people give flack for the Octavinelle trio being ruthless and "behaving like a Mafia." But I think considering where they live it makes sense? They live in the ocean. And the ocean is a kill or be killed environment, where you have to the strongest and toughest. If not? You at least have to be quick witted and unable to be seen, otherwise you'll be dead. If the trio become too soft they'll be fish meat.
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I think the fandom is pretty divided when it comes to perceptions of what the Coral Sea is like. On one hand, you have the people who think of it as like living in Atlantica, which is basically just like living in a peaceful and pretty city (but underwater). Then you have the people who think the environment would be so different it would shape its inhabitants to behave differently as well. The second one tends to be a darker or grittier interpretation which aknowledges dangers such as other undersea creatures and treacherous living conditions.
Personally, I lean on and enjoy the latter, since TWST rarely ever designs purely for the aesthetic of it; one example of this is how the twins are confirmed to be bioluminescent in the Magical Archives. This is a decision that was not made “because it would look cool”, but because many deep sea creatures rely on this trait to intimidate potential predators. It would make more sense for the cold waters of the Coral Sea to change its people rather than merfolks’ cities simply being civilizations moved several leagues under, especially seeing TWST time and time again really consider the geography and history of each new location and how those inform the cultures that form there.
However, I want to state that the Coral Sea would be very different depending on which area you’re in, just like how there are nice parts and bad parts of a city. It’s not ALL nice or ALL bad. For example, the Atlantica Museum in book 3 appears to be in a more photic zone, so there’s more sunlight and it appears pleasant to be in. Even the merpeople there seem to be different than the Octatrio; they less so resemble specific sea creatures and are much more akin to being human-like. We have yet to really see how the benthic zones are—but we do know they must be harsher, since Floyd has mentioned exploring shipwrecks and various dangers there (like sharks).
I also want to point out that there are subtle signs in dialogue which could imply merpeople prefer traits that promote survivability and adaptability in the ocean. Azul’s bullies are noted to taunt him for his weight, but also for his bulky tentacles and inky tears. Now why those traits specifically??? Because these impede his ability to swim swiftly (making it harder to escape danger) and easily give away his location (if he’s in hiding or camoflauging).
I’ve seen others suggest that maybe these comments are because of racism against octopus merpeople, who are a rare kind of merfolk. This is entirely possible, yes! But thinking about it like that… Isn’t it also possible that there aren’t a lot of octopus merpeople at the moment because it’s more difficult for them to escape or to hide from predators? Which then informs and perpetuates preexisting prejudices. In this context (plus the bullying), it makes sense why Azul may have “hardened” as a defense and survival mechanism. The same goes for the twins, who were explicitly taught how to defend themselves (although this also goes into the Leech mob family theory, which is a whole separate matter) and have often made references to fighting others in the Coral Sea. Their upbringings also play a part in their personalities, but so does the environment they grew up in. Like Azul and the twins, you’d have to harden mentally or physically to some degree to ensure your survival through tough circumstances.
It’s hard to say for sure though! A lot of this is speculation based on current but infrequent lore, and the Octatrio themselves are a very small portion of all merfolk. They may not be representative of the behaviors of all other merpeople, and we should keep this in mind when referring to them as our exemplars. That’s why I’ve been hoping for a Coral Sea hometown event so we have a more concrete idea of what life under the sea is like 😭
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totalswag · 9 months
Text
all grown up — DREW STARKEY
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authors note first off, thank you so much for 100 followers. this was a request from raye, i hope you like it!! ps, i had trouble finding pictures that can fit this fic so these are the pictures i could find, please don't come at me lmao.
summary your daughter going to preschool for the first time and drew and you don't know how to control yourselves because your little girl is growing up but drew is having a harder time accepting it because he cares for his little girl so much.
warnings none just a lot of sweetness and crying 🥹
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As a parent, taking your child to school for the first time is filled with a lot of emotions. You want to make sure your child is going into an environment where they’ll have fun, make new friends, and be safe.
It takes eight minutes to get to school. Drew was driving with one hand on the steering wheel and the other softly caressing your hand, while Tatum sat in the back seat staring out the window with her teddy bear in her lap.
“Are we there yet?” Tatum asked softly.
“Almost princess,” Drew answered.
Tatum mumbled underneath her breath, you couldn’t understand what she was saying.
You shed a few tears when you arrived, but you wiped them away because you didn't want to overwhelm Tatum.
"I want to hold your hands," she says, raising both hands in a grasping manner.
Drew and you exchanged glances, giggling at your daughter's request.  
Drew was ready to cry and let it all out just by looking at him. In a public setting, he is great with controlling his emotions. You walked into your shared bedroom the night before to find him on the phone with his mom, crying over Tatum. Drew crying is rare unless it’s something serious.
To be real, you watched home videos of when Tatum was just a baby and balled your eyes out the whole time without knowing Drew stood by the door with his arms crossed.
This morning Drew felt a wave of emotions hitting him all at once again. He doesn’t want you to let you know how much he wants to cry but he has mentioned plenty of times how happy he is of his little princess entering preschool and is growing up so fast.
It was simple to find your way through the school hallways to Tatum's class. The door was open for the kids and their families. The classroom was nicely designed and provided everything a preschooler needs. Tatum grip Drew's and your hands more tightly as you walk around the classroom.
You smiled and pointed to the desk with her name on it, "This is where you'll be sitting."
Tatum slowly releases your hands as you crouch down to look at her. Drew helps her in taking off her backpack and setting it on top of her desk. 
While Drew helped Tatum, you scanned around the classroom, admiring how the teachers made things appear so enjoyable for these kids, who were still crouched. You make eye contact with a young woman wearing a name tag, whom you assume is one of Tatum's teachers. 
"Hello, it's nice to meet you, you must be Tatum?" The young woman smiles and extends her hand. "My name is Miss Eva, and I'll be your teacher this year," 
"What do you say, Tatum?" Drew nudges her softly, whispering.
"Hello, my name is Tatum Starkey," she responds then hides her face in Drew’s neck. 
Drew kisses her head and runs his left hand up and down her back.
Drew and you shake the young woman's hand and introduce yourselves. 
Miss Eva explains to Drew and you about the class and what she and the other teachers will be doing to keep this preschool year fun for the kids. 
Drew kept Tatum close to him, making you want to cry for the two. Drew and Tatum's relationship is unbreakable. His entire life changed for the better the instant she entered the world. He will do anything to protect her.
After Miss Eva walked away, Drew and you told Tatum to walk around the classroom and find a friend to play with before the class starts. 
“I’m so sad, I don’t want her to feel upset the whole time she’s here” you sigh, leaning your head on Drew’s arm.
“Me neither” Drew’s body was tense. You patted his chest to comfort him.
Drew felt like he could break down and cry right now. But, he kept the crying for the car. 
You two watched your little girl walk around the room with her arms in front of her body. She looks at one girl playing with baby dolls in the corner, she walks over, and sits beside the girl. The young girl gives Tatum a kind smile, handing her a baby doll to play with. The two start giggling. 
“The class is about to start, we should get going” you announce, checking the time from your watch. 
“Tatum can you come over here for a second” you call her over, she places the baby doll down, and walks over with a smile.
“That's my new friend, her name is Bella.”
"That's lovely to hear, my sweet girl," you say, trying not to choke, "me and daddy are going to leave because we aren't supposed to be here the whole time." Her bottom lip quivers, and her eyes begin to water. 
"Please don't cry unless you want mommy to cry," you chuckle as you take her hand in yours.
Tatum hiccups, "I don't want you guys to leave me."
You look at Drew with tears forming in your eyes, he nods and makes Tatum look at him.
"Princess, listen to daddy right now; you'll see us in a few hours, and when we pick you up, we'll get you some ice cream to celebrate your first day of preschool." "You'll have so much fun with your new teachers and make so many friends," Drew assures Tatum as he tucks her front strands of hair behind her ear.
When Drew said the word "ice cream," Tatum's eyes lit up. 
"Be good for mommy and daddy, please."
"I will, I love you," she says as she pulls you both into a group hug.
You each kiss her on the cheek and exit the classroom. Her gaze never leaves your figures. She blows you two kisses, like she always does. It’s her way of saying, I love you.
The moment you got in the car you started crying.
Drew gently held your hand as he looked at his wrist, which was a bracelet Tatum made for him. Drew felt a tear fall across his lap. He couldn't stop thinking about how his little princess had grown up. He is grateful to be able to call Tatum his daughter. 
"I love you, Y/N," Drew says when you raise your head from your lap.
He's crying. 
"I love you even more, Drew," she says, leaning over to hug him.
"She's growing up, and we have to accept it," you whisper in his neck, and he nods, crying.
"She's my whole world."
You two have another five minutes together before heading back home to relax.
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taglist 🧚🏼‍♀️
@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight @ikisscline @brooklynscherry-z
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hollowtones · 9 months
Note
first yiik impressions?
Hi. Thanks for your message. I've been thinking about this for days. I wrote paragraphs. Here you go!
Everyone talks up how the game is bad, but I've never looked into it much myself, so I went in with an expectation along the lines of "people whose opinions I often agree with think it was an awful mess, I'll likely think something similar". Expectations were low. Even then I wasn't really ready.
"YIIK" is a game of tedium. I don't think it's a game about tedium, that's something different (though it could be, if it was a different video game altogether; "what if the world was made of pudding" etc). To some degree I think the tedium is by design but I'm not really sure what it's in service of.
I don't think tedium in a video game is a bad thing. "Morrowind" and "Breath of the Wild" are two video games I like very much, and some of my favourite memories of those games are of slowly wandering through empty expanses, or having to suddenly deal with equipment degrading or supplies dwindling because I forgot to prepare. Moments like that feel thoughtful! They're interesting moments of reprieve or of tension that feel thoughtfully and intentionally designed! "YIIK" feels like trudging through chest-deep molasses so it can shout "hey did you know you're stuck in my molasses right now? that's weird, why are you stuck in my molasses right now? did you notice?" directly into your ear.
You'll notice this is a pattern.
Combat is turn-based and involves completing little minigames, timing button prompts or hitting targets or some such. It's a cute idea that wears out its welcome when you start realizing how long every single one takes to resolve, especially when you have multiple party members, and sometimes multiple enemies (I'm told this part specifically gets more egregious as the game goes on). I don't think it's awful or unsalvageable but I'm not super into it as of the point we're at.
This is a pattern.
Leveling up is a manual process that you have to unlock, and it involves going to a save point (any save point? we didn't check), to enter the Mind Dungeon, to enter the actual Mind Dungeon, to walk down a set of stairs and enter individual doors one-by-one, so that you can choose how you want to allocate stat increases, so that you can walk down a different set of stairs to commit your choices and spend your banked experience to level up. I think "you can only power up at specific points / times / locations" and the granularity of stat growth are interesting ideas, and the environment they made for it are a charming idea, and I don't think it needed to be a "Hotel Mario" level that you had to slowly walk through. It could have been a menu. They could have used the resources for a nice background or backdrop for a menu that accomplishes the same thing.
This is a pattern.
I haven't really mentioned anything about the story or writing yet. The protagonist's name is Alex and he's a very self-important nerdy misanthropic dickhead white man (a very specific kind of guy that I've definitely met at least once or twice) who is obsessed with a paranormal message board populated by people like him and desperate to find out more about the disappearance of a woman he witnessed. (The woman & her disappearance are based on the real life death of Elisa Lam & aren't handled with a whole lot of tact, IMO, but other people have put this into better words than I can right now. It sucks. It keeps coming up and it makes me bristle every time.) Alex is a bad person. I know he is. You know he is. The game knows he is. I've seen some reviews say a negative point of the game is "the main characters aren't likeable", which I don't really get, because that's the point of the characters, as far as I can tell. The issue, then, is how much time the game takes to exposit at you how bad the characters are. It's exhausting. Every time Alex has a monologue, it feels like it sums up to 10 minutes of "I am a bad person. I am a bad person. Alex is a bad person. This character is a bad person. Do you get it? He's a bad person. Alex is a bad person. Do you understand yet, player? Alex is a bad person. You should know that he's a bad person. Do you get it?"
This is a pattern.
(I don't know how interested I am in bringing up the game's lead writer right now, if at all, but there's a well-known anecdote where he talks about wanting to write a story about a bad person who is forced to grapple with himself and do better, and how the reason why his game wasn't well-received was because people who play video games didn't get it & weren't ready for a story like that. I dunno. I can understand being upset about negative reception to something you poured time and sweat into, and saying something hasty because of it. "Final Fantasy 4" is a beloved RPG classic, though, and "Disco Elysium" came out the same year to overwhelming praise. I haven't played either of these yet, though, so I'll admit maybe I'm off the mark here.)
The characters we've met so far (i.e. the ones that aren't unnamed NPCs) are… well. There's a smarmy younger kid who idolizes(?) Alex & also made the aforementioned paranormal website. So far it seems like he mostly exists to go "hey fuck you Alex, you dickhead" and immediately say something even more insensitive. There's the insensitive based-on-a-real=ass-dead-woman elevator woman, who immediately disappeared from the narrative while still being an essential part of the narrative. There was a dead(?) robot in a bedroom, who had a choir of ominous hooded people monologue about how weird and sad and strange and uncanny the scene is. What the!? There's a woman who works at the arcade and has Powers. Her design's cute. (I feel like, generally, the game's visuals are Fine. The audio, too. That all ranges from Just Fine to Surprisingly Neat. I don't really have much issue with those aspects of the game, but I don't have much to say about them either.) Alex and Kid Whose Name I Didn't Care To Remember are constantly very uncomfortable to her, because she's a woman and because she isn't white, in the 15 or so minutes we've seen her on-screen, and she gets to tell them off, but then immediately kind of goes "well whatever I can smile and put up with this and hang out with you". It feels misogynistic. I know to some degree Alex is misogynistic on purpose, because the game is bludgeoning your skull in and yelling "ALEX IS SHITTY TO WOMEN! AND PEOPLE OF COLOUR! DO YOU GET IT? HE'S SELF ABSORBED IN A SHITTY WAY! DO YOU GET IT, PLAYER? YOU UNDERSTAND THAT ALEX SUCKS ASS YET? MAYBE 10 MORE MINUTES OF THIS WILL MAKE IT CLICK?" But for a woman of colour (the only one we've seen so far who isn't Probably Just Dead) to finally tell him off for being a shithead, only to turn around and go "well it's ok, you're cool now, let's hang out now because it's narratively convenient and you're the protagonist" is pretty damn egregious!
This is a pattern.
Writing in general feels stilted and long-winded. Most of the main characters feel like they don't talk like people do. Alex gets to feel like a person but that's mostly because he gets to talk to himself so damn much. Most of his monologues feel like overly flowery prose, like someone padded it out with identical adjectives to meet a school essay word count. There's an interesting idea or premise or setpiece every now and then. There's a spark. A glint of something compelling. Every single time this has happened so far I find it immediately snuffed out by an over-blown "oh my god!!!!!!! how weird!!!!!!', or a very long plot dump, or a Joss Whedon-ass quip. There can be no small moment of joy. No story element or visual element can stand on its own legs. There can be no room for ideas to breathe. No space for the player to wonder, to dream, to play in the space. The narrative is compelled to suffocate iself on itself, to take up all space, to swallow itself whole in its making. One very minor (so far?) side character has some interesting dialogue in this one dream world, and I think "oh that's neat", and then I learn they're lines taken wholesale from a book (and I think that's fine, reference is fine, but I have a bit of a chuckle over the fact that this character is the reason why the game has a giant REFERENCES option in the main menu). The literal first minute of the game is a bird telling you "oh my god, the title of this game, right? why'd they spell it like that? so fucking dumb, am I right!" It feels insecure. It reads like the writing has no confidence in itself. It has to make a comment about how silly and video-gamey it is, roll its eyes at itself, mock itself for the thing it's doing while continuing to do it without addressing it or discussing it or doing anything with it.
This is a pattern.
There's a specific part of "YIIK", at this early point in the game (we're only around the start[?] of chapter 2), that feels emblematic of the thing as a whole up to this point. Alex is getting phone calls from a stranger. They're confusing and weird and sound a little like something you might hear in a dream. They make references to some shared past, some childhood, some understanding of Alex, or maybe of you, the player. They've come up a few times. Every single time, I'm left thinking about what it could mean, how it fits in with everything we've seen so far & what the game seems to be talking about, with regards to connecting to other people and to yourself. It's a neat little thing. It's a neat idea. I'm charmed by it. As much as my thoughts on this game are largely negative, I still try to look at it fairly, to understand it, to talk about it, to let myself be surprised by it. As soon as I find myself thinking about this, my thoughts are immediately drowned out by Alex telling me how weird the phone call is, how random and uncanny and dumb this is, and how he's rolling his proverbial eyes about it, in spite of all the other paranormal happenings around him, for another period of Just Too Long. And I am sapped of all strength and I crumble to dust.
I'm genuinely transfixed. I'm transfixed! Maybe the fact that I wrote Paragraphs about the 4-or-5 hours I've seen of the game can tell you as much, even if you skip everything I wrote in them.
I can't wait to see more.
This, too, is a pattern.
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scarletttries · 3 months
Text
Roman Roy x Shiv's Best Friend!Reader Headcanons (Succession Request)
Pairing: Roman Roy x Shiv's Best Friend Reader
Rating: Fluff
Word Count: 1.6k
Request: "Hi! If you’re still writing for succession, can I suggest headcanons for dating Roman while your shiv’s best friend? No pressure of course!!"
Author's Note: Celebrating his win this week, here's some headcanons for Roman Roy falling in love with his sister's best friend 🥰
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- No matter how much time passes, Roman can still vividly remember the first time he saw you. It was a Tuesday afternoon, shrouded in monotony and teenage angst, sat at the dining table closely guarded by a tutor who'd been hired to make sure he got at least a passing grade to finish high school with. Despite being nowhere in sight he could still feel the oppressive judgement of his father breathing down his neck as he struggled to understand the notes laid out in front of him, the frustrations rising inside him and threatening to spill out in tears as his tutor joked that 'this should be easy!' Then the sweet sound of laughter cut through the pressure and the noise, like a windchime chirping out the loveliest tune in the middle of a storm, whipping his head around to find the source.
- It had taken two weeks of pleading and a thorough background check, but Shiv had finally been allowed to have a friend over to the house. You had been her classmate for years, but as you both readied yourselves to head off to the same college next year, you two had grown that much closer, your friendship cemented as you planned parallel lives on that first step into adulthood. Your first time visiting her stately home you found yourself pulling your school blazer more tightly around your shoulders, the echoing fortress sending a chill through you, its classy interior feeling hollow and uneasy. As you drifted through winding corridors Shiv led you into a grand dining hall, throwing her designer bag on one end of the oak table and saying you two could finish your homework here before you go upstairs to her room.
Despite the tutor's protest that Roman needed all the concentration he could muster, Shiv only laughed and set about teasing her brother for his supposed incompetence. Despite only a few months difference in your age, he looked so small to you, younger and more vulnerable, like he hadn't quite stopped being a little boy yet even as he strived to become a man.
"I remember that module from last year - don't feel bad, it took me ages to understand it all. You'll get there." You threw him a soft smile as you pulled your own folders from your bag, earning a scoff from Shiv and a hopeful look from Roman. Your gentle kindness seemed to lift his spirits and take the weight off his shoulders, the rest of his afternoon spent throwing desperate glances your way, mentally pleading for you to stick around and smile his way again.
- You and Shiv only grew closer as you shared a college dorm, more often than not visiting her during the holidays and giving her an ally in the misogynistic environment she called home. Each time you visited, Roman had grown up a little more, transforming from that meek boy to a young man who at least considered himself charming, even if that wasn't exactly what anyone else thought. You always found that no matter how confidently he drifted into the seat next to yours, catching up in easy conversation as old friends do, you couldn't help but still see a flicker of that sad, scared boy you had first met in his eyes, a part of him seeming to never really heal from whatever a childhood spent as a Roy entails.
- You and Shiv had so many milestones passed side by side, so in turn Roman was there to celebrate you with each one. It was hard to tell whether he applauded you or Shiv more loudly as you walked across the graduation stage, and when you landed on the first step of your chosen career ladder, the biggest gift basket you recieved was proudly signed 'Love, Roman.' He was there with a housewarming gift when you got your first apartment, a bouquet of flowers for every birthday, and all the while insisted he'd do the same for any of his old friends.
- His lack of subtlety made it easy for you and Shiv to deduce his true feelings, your best friend slightly disgusted by the thought of anyone dating her little brother, but the softest part of her knew you'd make him happier than anyone else could, two decades of friendship a testament to your positive impact on the lives of those you cared about. And after a few less than successful romances with big city executives who couldn't stop bragging about what they brought to the table, you couldn't help but enjoy the thought of spending more time on the receiving end of Roman's loving gaze.
- And so you put yourself out there, accompanying Shiv into the Waystar building on a Friday afternoon and giving Roman an overwhelming rush when you tapped lightly on the glass door of his office, giving him the same sweet smile you had offered him in consolation all those years ago. The advantage of a glass office was that you could clearly see the way he bolted upright in his chair, running his fingers through his hair as he awkwardly half-jogged to the door and flung it open with more force than he intended.
"Fuck, hey! What are you doing here? Do you need me to help you find Shiv?" He seemed almost out of breath as he spoke, voice wavering in pitch, trying to get a hold of himself.
"Actually I came to see you. I wanted to know if you were free for dinner tonight?"
"Like me, you, Shiv, maybe Ken?" His forehead creased as he spoke, frowning at the uncomfortable flips his stomach was executing in return for your eye contact.
"No, just the two of us? Like a date." You clarified, watching the gears turn in his head as if the request he'd so often fantasized about making didn't actually make sense when uttered aloud. Finally the penny dropped along with his jaw, his eyes growing wide and wild as he nodded in silence, unable to conjure the words he needed for once in his life. Taking pity on him, you spoke again, "Cool, what time do you finish here?" As you gestured to the desk behind him, you seemed to remind him of where he was - in his work place, in plain view, stuttering and tripping over himself for all to see. That wouldn't do.
"Uh - i'm done now. Fuck it, let's get out of here." In a singular moment of courage, Rowan grabbed the jacket he'd discarded over the back of his chair in one hand, and reached for you with the other, letting out an excitable giggle as you laced your fingers through his for the first time.
- After the most comfortable first date you had ever been on, Roman gave you no chance to get bored of him, or think about anyone else. After decades of pining, he decided that one night was enough to make him your boyfriend, quickly planning his whole life around you, and making sure an evening couldn't pass without you on his arm. His heart still hammered in his chest every time he got to touch you, but he tried to ignore that and act as if you had always been together, partly because in his head he had been yours for years, even if you hadn't been his in return yet.
- You both have to endure a lot of jabs and taunts from Shiv, although at least half of them are made with love. She makes a serious affair out of dividing up your time between her and Roman though, not willing to lose her best friend even if her brother is the happiest she's ever seen him.
- For Roman you feel like a comfort blanket at every family event, a physical reminder of the kindness he deserves and that there is someone good in this world that cares about him. When his father is especially vindictive or cruel, Roman clings to you under the table, a gentle squeeze of your hand meaning safety to his fragile inner child.
- Roman has spent so long captivated by you, desperate to be in your favour, soaking in the warmth of presence, that now he can't get enough. Given his lack of meaningful adult relationships he doesn't have a frame of reference for how he should act, or how to manage his emotions. He'll feel like a frantic teenager in love, unable to let go of your hand no matter how difficult it makes navigating a crowd, discussing moving in and plans that span 'forever' after only a few dates. It makes perfect sense for him, because you're the only person that's made him feel this way his entire life, so of course you're going to be together forever.
- Every time you plant a soft peck on Roman, he'll let out a sweet hyena giggle, before repaying you with a matching kiss, euphoric in his newfound appreciation for affection. It's not just physical affection either, although he does find himself clinging to you and begging you to run your fingers through his hair and down his back. He cherishes every sweet word you say, almost to the point that he really believes them. He rereads the texts you send him like they are poetry in themselves. His heart swells when you describe him as your partner and introduce him to your friends, not ashamed of him or your feelings, making Roman stand a little prouder in himself.
- That first moment of kindness that you showed Roman sparked a small light inside him, a flickering hope of a life of kindness and joy that he could only ever picture with you. Now getting to face that reality is so much brighter than that young, stressed, despondent boy could have dreamed.
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yxami · 11 months
Note
pls do something of yandere jock asking and taking reader out to high school prom ! 🥺🥺 it’d be so sweet n cute
I hope this didn’t disappoint! I was running out of brain juices the whole time.
description: yandere jock x reader, him taking you out to prom, yandere stuff, soft yandere, more fluff than anything, I was planning to include some jealousy from Ethan but decided not to hehe 😊
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Ethan would at first be nervous to ask you, he’d sit on your bed during a regular hangout and get lost in thought about how to do it. He’d wonder whether to ask you casually or get flowers and a board to decorate on that would say the words for him.
He decided on going all out and getting a beautiful bouquet with a sign. He wasn’t much of an artist, so he’d probably need help from his friends to decorate the board.
He planned to ask you right after a game of his but then he realized how stupid it was. You weren’t really a ‘people person’ you’d probably dislike being asked out like that.
He finally came up with the great idea to ask you during a regular hangout. It’s the perfect environment where you’re having fun and you’re comfortable!
He managed to make the bouquet and sign fit in his book-bag. He did have to fold the sign once and take everything out his book-bag before-hand but it was perfect! The flowers and sign were intact and perfect even when he took them out.
The weekly hangout was going good, you were watching the laptop in-front of the two of you, lying the opposite way of the bed. He was laid close to you, trying to pretend he was invested in the movie.
But he was just lost in thought instead, he was still thinking about when to do it. Should he do it later when the two of you were eating? Or maybe when—
“Hey, what’s up with you. You’ve been distracted all day” You nudged at him, looking a little concerned.
“Hmm? Oh! Nothing, I’m just thinking about prom” Ethan accidentally spilled the dangerous word that would likely propose the question “Why? You’re going?”
“I.. am! I’ve been planning to go. What about you?” He nervously tapped his finger against the computer corner. His nerves only seemed to risen with your confused stare.
“Nope, I’m just gonna stay home and relax. I don’t have a reason to go anyway” You glanced at his finger tapping repeatedly against the hard surface. You wondered if he had something to tell you by the way his expression sat on his face.
“Well, uhm maybe you’d like to come with me?” He awkwardly asked, a little more pathetic then he intended to sound. He grabbed his book-bag lying on the floor before you answered and unzipped it.
He revealed the sign that was well decorated with markers and designs to ask you out. The freshly ordered bouquet was seen right after as he held it in his hands.
“Seriously?” You sort of laughed before realizing he was being dead serious.
“Of course I would wanna! Yeah!” You knocked him down with excited hug. The both of you falling against the soft blankets and sheets covering your bed. You were so happy he actually asked you! You weren’t expecting him to, you honestly thought the two of you were just going to go somewhere else instead of prom.
You kissed and hugged him tightly, unable to stop your numerous attacks of affections towards him. He was greedily enjoying all of it as he laid against the bed.
Ethan did end up buying your prom outfit, obviously matching his. He was so happy you said yes, he was more excited about spending time with you instead of prom. Sure prom was cool but taking you out somewhere where you looked amazing and he’d be able to be with you every second? For sure another dream of his that came true.
You sat down in one of the empty chairs, being covered in colorful lights that were emitting from parts of the large room that held a hundred or so students. Everything was loud, the music, the people having fun, but it wasn’t overwhelming like you thought it would be.
It was honestly nice, especially with the handsome figure coming up to you with cups of fruit punch for the two of you.
“Look, they actually didn’t have any beverages with alcohol! I’m honestly surprised nobody spiked it” Ethan blissfully sat down next to you, loving how you looked. He loved every part of you, and he was sure as hell glad he was lucky enough to be with you.
“I’m relieved, I honestly thought it would be like last year” You drank a few gulps of fruit punch, no alcohol just like he said. It was fruity and sweet, you were happy everything was going well.
“Jesus, that was probably the worst prom ever out of every single one I’ve seen” He laughed, remembering how everything went down that night. Lots of drunk instagram stories and cheerful students.
“I know right, I was glad I didn’t go” You laughed, taking another gulp of juice. He eyed you while you drank, wondering if he should ask it right now.
“Hey do you wanna dance? I know it’s cheesy or whatever but I wanna” Ethan observed your gentle stare before you nodded happily. “Mhm!”
The two of you made it to what others presumed as the dance floor and held hands. He brought you close, and held you by your waist. You eased up, feeling more comfortable dancing with him.
You accidentally stepped on his shoes once or twice and he chuckled about it, still helping you get on the right pattern. You internally thanked whoever played the songs that they chose a slow song right now.
The lights illuminated on his face, he looked gorgeous under it. You were also thanking whoever set up the lights for letting you see such a breathtaking view.
He brought you closer before you could admire him anymore, you wrapped your arms around his neck, facing him so close you could only scan his eyes that lovingly stared into yours.
You grinned, enjoying this tender moment with him. You really liked being with him, it was like you were on a cloud that would never become heavy with problems. Just a fluffy surface to cover you with love.
The same thing that could also consume you with jealousy and control if you even thought of leaving him. Something you would never find out about.
“The music’s nicer then I thought it would be” His soft expression made you only focus on him again, not the loud music, not the people nearby, only him.
“Yeah! It’s really nice..” You scanned his eyes, looking deep into his.
“Can I kiss you?” He sort of laugh his awkward question off. He was a little embarrassed asking but at least he would know he asked instead of regretting it.
You made no verbal response, only pressing your lips against his, he muffled a reply that wasn’t comprehendable to you. He leaned down to cup your face and passionately kiss you. He didn’t want to get too overwhelmed right now so he let go of the kiss.
He was desperate to kiss for longer but he knew it would only draw attention from teachers.
The two of you continued dancing, until the crowd died out and your feet were sore. You were really happy that you went with him. Spending your time at prom instead of being at home was so much better.
The two of you arrived at your door step not long after prom ended. You were satisfied with how the night went, nothing could make it as fun as it was.
“Well, I’ll see you at school?” You held the bouquet in your hands, Ethan kept the sign, insisting that he could make a better one for you by himself.
“Yeah! I’ll text you when I get home. I really had fun” He hugged you, letting go to kiss you once more before leaving.
You stood on your door step waving, he hopped in his car and waved. He drove down the clear road as you went in your house. You set the bouquet down and happily ran to your room.
You threw yourself on your bed, in disbelief that you really went to prom with Ethan! You excitedly scrolled on your phone, awaiting his response that would come soon enough.
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The Clarkesworld AI Spam issue is one of those stories that to me really highlights the limits of the tools that hype is obscuring. Clarkesworld is a well-established Sci-Fi publishing magazine that today had to suspend all of its submissions due to being overwhelmed by ChatGPT generated entries:
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This inspired a lot of discourse around the idea of a ‘crisis of credibility’ on the internet, AI sweeping away the boundries of authenticity in a flood of forgeries. How can magazines even operate in this new environment, one might ask?
Which is weird because this environment isn’t new at all, as the editor, Neil Clarke, comments on in his blog post around the problem:
Since the early days of the pandemic, I’ve observed an increase in the number of spammy submissions to Clarkesworld. What I mean by that is that there’s an honest interest in being published, but not in having to do the actual work. Up until recently, these were almost entirely cases of  plagiarism, first by replacing the author’s name and then later by use of programs designed to “make it your own.”
The issue isn’t that spam exists, its the quantity:
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This is undoubtably a gigantic spike, and 100% it is induced by ChatGPT.
But hold on - is ChatGPT actually *better* at this that previous spam tools? Niel doesn’t think so, even if he is worried about the future: 
I’m not going to detail how I know these stories are “AI” spam or outline any of the data I have collected from these submissions. There are some very obvious patterns and I have no intention of helping those people become less likely to be caught...
... What I can say is that the number of spam submissions resulting in bans has hit 38% this month. While rejecting and banning these submissions has been simple, it’s growing at a rate that will necessitate changes. To make matters worse, the technology is only going to get better, so detection will become more challenging.
And how expensive was the plagarism before to do anyway? It was copy-pasting text, automated word replacement programs, and done, that is trivial. Its a little harder than ChatGPT, sure, but you could make a thousand in a day no sweat, automated scripts randomizing names and jumbling nouns from a list. 
The success rate also seems to be zero! Neither plagarism nor ChatGPT generates any story worth a damn, these aren’t being accepted. Neil is quite confident he is catching 100% of them and I believe him on that, these tools cannot write good fiction of any length beyond a paragraph. 
So what is the ChatGPT’s advantage over previous, ‘dumber’ spam that justifies a 100-fold increase in spam usage? I am not seeing one, and I don’t think there is one besides marginally lower per-spam costs. Phrased another way, what was stopping someone from submitted 500 spam entries in one month in 2021? Nothing but interest in doing so.
Which is the rub of why this is happening - it isn’t because ChatGPT is good at this task, its because its the hype thing to do. Everyone is talking about it, everyone is trying it out, everyone is trying to find “delta” so they can ride the hype train. A bunch of people, some who may have even had axes to grind against Clarkesworld, have heard of this brand new fun tool and are flooding into the market to take advantage of it. But there might not be much to take advantage of; hype is fleeting, particularly in the face of no results as this effort is getting. As it fails, unless that axe really needs grinding above all else, spammers will move.
All of this to say that this story is, again, not a story about AI at all. AI is just the reason these already-bad parts of the system are being tested in the public eye.
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Minimum Wage
"And finally, it is worth to consider that the majority of those low-end jobs are being held by foreigners. Foreigners who took those jobs from our own people! Foreigners our country does more than enough for already. Any raise in minimum wage will just be spent on alcohol and cigarettes and condoms for their gay sex! Ladies and gentlemen, raising the minimum wage should be out of the question! We should think about lowering it instead!" Thomas finished his speech before the parliament and was content. Great speech, he thought. There was applause from one side of the room and angry shouting from the other side, just as usual.
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One of those pesky left-wing women was especially outraged. Her head was as red as her unkempt hair, and he could hear her agitated shouts even without her using a microphone. Something about having no idea about the reality of those minimum wage workers and that he should try experiencing such a life for himself. His microphone was still on, so he added: "And my suggestion to Miss Motley is to find a broomstick to fly away on instead of shouting nonsense." Laughter from his fraction, angry faces from the other side of the room. Great job, Thomas concluded and left the lectern.
That woman was being ridiculous. Even comparing himself to such a low-life was out of the question. He would never lower himself to something like that. That's why he had been working hard all these years, studying politics and economics in order to get into the government. It did help a bit that his family was wealthy, but that was clearly because they have lived in this country forever and weren't some immigrant scum or sexual deviants. Thomas thought for a moment while adjusting his expensive suit and looked at his smartphone. He didn't care too much for the rest of the parliamentary day. There would be some speeches from opposing fractions and then there would be a vote where the majority would vote in favor of the raised minimum wage. Fools. Thomas shook his head and decided to go home early today.
He gathered his things and phoned his driver on the way out. Thomas scowled when he heard the man say that his car was still in maintenance since he didn't expect to be needed before the end of the session. It was really hard to find good staff these days. It was too far to walk, so he would have to take a cab. While he was walking to the cab stand, he messaged his secretary to fire his driver and find him a new one.
"What do you mean 'on a strike?'" He asked, incredulously. There had been no cabs at the stand and when he phoned the company, they just told him the cab drivers were on a strike today for higher wages. Angrily, he hung up. Just great! He would have to take the bus now. The bus. A public transport system for the poor. He hated them with every fiber of his being. They stank like hell, they were full of criminals and immigrants who couldn't even speak the language properly, and worst of all, they were overcrowded.
Fuming, he made his way to the bus stop and entered the vehicle. It was full, but he managed to secure him one of the last seats. It would take quite a while going by bus, so the first minutes, Thomas was busy swiping on his phone. It was really full and warm in here, with the smell of sweat and unwashed people assaulting his nose. He felt really uncomfortable and shifted around in his seat. He wanted to get back to using his phone, when he noticed that there was dirt under his fingernails. No wonder in this dirty environment. When he tried to clean it, he noticed that the nails on his other hand didn't look better. In fact, his whole hand looked dirty and rough, like he had tried to dig a hole in the garden. He frowned and inspected it closer. The skin seemed different and not only that, it was darker. He looked down at his designer shoes and saw that they were covered in mud.
"What the..." He muttered to himself. This wasn't possible. He was wearing his best clothes, which cost more than most people earned in a year. He looked down at his hands again and realized that his rings were gone as well. What the hell? Where are my rings? He took off his jacket and checked inside the pockets but found nothing. His cellphone was missing too.
Thomas began to panic. Had someone stolen his stuff? That was impossible. He just used his phone seconds ago! And that wasn't his jacket either, even though he just took it off. This was a high-vis vest made out of cheap reflective fabric, not the expensive jacket he was sure to have put on this morning.
"What the fuck is happening?" He said aloud, but nobody answered. All he got was an annoyed glance from a woman behind him. She gave him a dirty look and turned her attention back to her phone, ignoring him completely. Thomas looked at his hands again. There was something wrong with them. It was like looking at a strangers hands. The back of his hands looked dirty and hairy, with more dirt under his nails. The skin was darker than he used to. If he just saw these hands, he would think they belonged to someone used to working outside.
He checked his feet again, like this was all a bad dream. Still covered in mud. But these were not his shoes, either. He was wearing sturdy work boots all of a sudden. With steel toe caps. The leather was torn in places, too. He could feel that the soles were worn thin, and the heels weren't exactly comfortable to wear for long periods of time. Just as he was watching, his expensive dress pants changed next. Over the course of a few seconds, they shifted to a pair of worn work pants. His shirt and tie followed suit, but instead of changing into something else, they just disappeared into thin air, leaving him shirtless. A large leather toolbelt formed around his waist. Thomas couldn't believe his eyes. He was dressed like a filthy construction worker! He felt angry and helpless. He should call the police or something, but what would he tell them? That somehow his clothes just magically turned into some cheap worker attire?
Something else caught his eye. His work pants were pretty lose. If he were to stand up now, they would probably slide down his legs. However, as Thomas began to tighten his toolbelt, he watched in awe as his midsection began to expand. It was not that he was growing a gut; on the contrary, his belly even started to shrink. No, his hips started to widen with a broader build and fill in with muscles. At the same time, some coarse dark hairs started to appear on his abs. Not many, just a few. The changes quickly spread upwards, with his chest filling up with strong pectoral muscles. At the same time, he felt his upper legs touch his pants legs more tightly, as they filled with muscles, too.
Thomas's mind was reeling. He knew that there must be a logical explanation for this situation. It couldn't just happen by itself like this! So why did it happened? He thought about it hard and fast but came up empty. Generally speaking, thinking became more and more difficult for Thomas. It felt as if years of precious education that his parents paid for just evaporated from his mind.
As Thomas continued to stare at his body, he realized that the changes were far from over. His arms grew larger and stronger, and his shoulders broadened with each passing second. At the same time, his lower legs and feet thickened, filling out the pants and boots now much better than before. Even his face changed, becoming more masculine and rugged. His cheekbones stood out more clearly and his nose widened. His mind was getting more and more foggy during all of this, and as the changes reached his cock, his intellect was reduced to a way more simple, practical version of himself.
He had lost most knowledge of his once native language, but another language grew in to replace that. With some horror, Thomas realized he wasn't just becoming a dumb construction worker, but also an immigrant! He tried to hold on to his ethnic background, but it was like trying to catch sand. Before long, Tomasz knew he had lost the battle.
It might not be for the worst, he mused. After all, his genetics gifted him with some boons, like the enormous cock whose bulge was now prominently visible between his wide spread legs. He would have liked to man-spread even wider, but sadly, the confines of the bus didn't allow for that. Perhaps, if he worked hard, someday he would earn enough money to be able to afford a car.
Well, speaking of work, his stop came up next. He would have to walk have a mile after that to get to his current construction site, but that's life. Tomasz smirked, as his dick grew hard thinking about his colleagues. Perhaps a few of the other men would be up to releasing some steam in the break, after a smoke and a beer perhaps. It slowly became a regular thing between them to pound each other’s asses, and he loved it more every day. If only he had enough money for condoms.
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